Behold him, with guardsmen in the Yangsan,
Yon bullshitting lunatic ass!
Repeating and barking by himself;
Meddles here, or twitters pass!
With volunteers he sells and binds his book,
And chirps frantically on facebook.
O listen! for the Yangsan vale profound
Is overflowing with the dog's sound.
No barmpot did ever mumble
More downfall notes to weary bands
Of the starving defectors tumble
And rove the endless forlorn lands.
A voice so lisping ne'er was heard
In nightclub from the dolly-bird,
Toasting the glasses of the reddened toxin
From the tongue of the boiled head of oxen.
Will no one tell me what he driveling? -
Perhaps the whorish numbers flow
For infant's, unhappy, far-off things,
And be fostered as a spy long ago.
Or is it some more servile lay
Familiar Chinese of today?
Some natural surrender or slave of pain
That has been, and be incurred by Jae-in?
Whate'er the theme, a mad dog's barking
As if his bullshit could have no ending;
We hear his nonsense when retired the working, ,
To be forgotten, his promising never keeping.
We listened, unwanted his book-ads and still:
And, we saw his book-selling at Yangsan hill,
Sadly, the nonsense, we must live our ear we bore,
Till he go to jail, it will be heard evermore.
-Tengre
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem