The President knows a betrayer's kiss as piercing as Jesus knew
But despite high office his wound is more,
The measure of God in him being infinitely less,
Lacking divinity's peculiar powers under duress.
Of this new news, at juncture, I have no need to know
And God has worked a subtle magic in this sinner's soul
Rendering a clown almost incapable of judgement.
So like Godiva's townsmen who blunted judgement by loving
Something greater than the temptation of her sensual fare,
I turn my back and grieve the part
Where friendship has become so shallow -
Just a little lump in the national pudding -
Rendered this supposed friend incapable of capacity to swallow.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem