Perverse Times Have Come

Perverse times have come, I know the mystery of the beloved crows have begun to hunt hawks, and sparrows feed on falcons horses bear the whipping, while donkeys graze on lush green no love is lost between relatives, be they younger or elder uncles There is no accord between fathers and sons, Nor any between mothers and daughters The truthful ones are being pushed about, the tricksters are seated close by The front liners have become wretched, the back benchers sit on carpets Those in tatters have turned into kings, the kings have taken to begging O Bulleh, that which is His command who can alter His decree.