Arab Poem

We were screwing, when I saw the shadow of a tapir,

Sweet love, rushing across your black pupil.

I stood up, before he could blow a whisper

I killed the insurgent of a gandoura stroke.

This adventure took place on top of Mounts Chérif

The monster was twitching, like a restless machine

I shouted, Animal, you seem to be stubborn

I jumped on his sturdy backbone

And he groaned a plaintive grizzling

And fell dead nearby the trims

Allah!

Comments

[orlando]

Y faut traduire "le petit lauriston"!