Hello! Lovely to see you, and woo-hoo, it's Friday already. Hooray! Let's kick off the weekend with some more Babelfishing poetry, where I take song lyrics, run them through an on-line translator such as (but not necessarily) Babelfish, kludge the punctuation a bit, and wind up with a quirky kind of poem.
Hungarian folk-metal band Dalriada (yes, folk metal is a for-real genre, and a lot of it is very good, if you like loud, aggressive folk music) brings us this week's feature, "A Dudás" (watch video here [advisory: contains some suggestive content]). Enjoy.
Sir Ürdüngök Is A Dud
Series, the day will come when I will have Argentina astronomy experience.
Besides the golden bird, the ark
in their honor, and the second century
rams the moonlight.
Red, white and black darkness
before the end of his repeated upper
He is scheduled to be in motion, and the wind.
Indeed, my tears: but still hot!
Pratik walks; it was amazing!
"But," he said, "you don't know me,
Yay, in a party with wraiths.
No green-white, and
the son of Cyrene and magic can be created.
Sir Ürdüngök is a dud.
So how do you ground
between victim and toxicity?
By chumil, teacher, research, information, etc.