When we travel the world
I’ll be sure to bring a camera.
That way I can say I’ve seen
Beautiful places,
With a beautiful person.
If we’re hungry,
We’ll barter a picture for bread
Because we heard the French baker
Has a sore spot for love stories,
And ours is worth its weight
In bread and butter.
Then we’ll dance on bottles of wine
And not care what they say about Americans
But shout when they call us foolish lovers
Because only we know that Frankie Lymon
Was really the fool himself.
And when you sleep in
I’ll find the florist with the kindest eyes
And buy her best flowers
And then ask her how to say
“Good morning, beautiful”
In Portuguese.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
10/10.......................