There was a young lady from Essex,
who knew the word fetish.
She danced round her bag,
in a club for the glad.
Deep in urban Essex.
There was a young lad from Surrey,
who never had to hurry.
He smoked his pot,
oh such a lot.
That his mind is all a flurry.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem