April passed away with its fragrant airs, <br />And it was the bright hot day of the month next; <br />Evening began to befall; the men and women <br />Halted their vehicles in the commodious lawn, <br />XLIs, Mercedes and Paradoes dazzled the eyes. <br /> <br />They were producers, manufacturers, and firm-owners <br />And were heading to the egg-white grand building: <br />The rain-washed edifice of the five stars hotel, <br />Green grass had a virgin tread of the gents and ladies. <br />They all went up the stairs of the first floor, <br />Entered sluggishly into the gigantic hall <br />Rounding arms around waists of the rented-whores. <br /> <br />They sat in the chairs placed along the rectangular tables <br />Laden with the rare roses, sheeted with <br />The red shining cloth hemmed silky golden. <br />In the first phase they were offered rare beverages <br />Warming their bodies, wakening the contents of lust, <br />They snivelled in intimacy of the hired-beloveds. <br />Then a stout bald man spoke gently to attract their ears, <br />And began to tattle on the new-fangled labour policy, <br />Behind played an orchestra synchronizing the occasion. <br /> <br />In the final course they ate the rare items of the dinner, <br />Chicken steamed, mutton steaks, things of the minced meat, <br />Then they took in the arms the dainty graceful ladies, <br />And entered they into the luxuriant ample rooms <br />To commemorate the night of the Labour Day.<br /><br />Muhammad Shanazar<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-labour-night/
