Nothing breaks the art of man like wealth,
beautiful damsel, desire of all,
her style is playing hard to get,
before her feet men always fall.
Nothing breaks the art of man like wealth,
she has no morals, no stop, no couth,
the greatest flirt ever known to man,
all to see and few to taste her honey pot.
Nothing breaks the art of man like wealth,
those who slave for her most she runs from farthest,
always sleeping with unserious lovers,
strength of the man has no meaning to her.
Nothing breaks the art of man like wealth,
she kisses in underclass amnesia,
turns the silent mourner a loud talker,
Wealth, mother of all flirts.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem