The discarded cans Litter the old city’s roads Treasures for the poor

Angry as a storm Temper boiling in his heart Outside, thunder roars!

I wish I could sing Bob Dylan I imitate Like a rolling stone

Covered with red hairs A delightful temptation Not what you may think

On the rocks she stands Looking desperately sad Plonk! She disappears.

A morning beach walk Cool breeze blowing on my face The pleasure is mine

The pair of hornbills Striking their own reflections In the car’s windscreen

A total blackout On such a sultry hot night Moon the only light

Watching butterflies Fluttering from plant to plant I wish I can fly

Thou shall not kill but I have killed so many times Those damn mosquitoes