PULL MY STRINGS
Pull my strings oh Muse,
And my smart fingers will
Dance to your melodic tunes
Of sturdy emotional 'skills'
And appalling witty cores
Table me a choice, Oh muse
Either road I choose,
Still pull my strings
For my audience are starving;
Their tongues of praise is parched
Buy my thoughts Oh Muse
Not with a meager penny
But with inspirations so many
many than the birds that board the sky
Let’s drench their burnt tongue
And fill their empty bowel
With stacks of poetic manna;
Oceans of rhythmical wines
Lest they doubt my finesse
And I curse your worthiness!
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I would like to translate this poem