In life I was a sailing man,
Women and whiskey in every port.
The Devil was my constant friend,
Oh, how I did cavort.
So when I drank myself to death,
It was really no surprise,
That down to bloody hell I'd go,
After my demise.
I'm up to my neck,
In the Cocytus,
Frozen.
But at least I can look around.
I see so many familiar faces,
Similarly,
Bound.
I don't mind the frigid women,
And I do not mind the ice,
But having no more whiskey!
Well, that just isn't nice!
And even though I'm freezing,
What really gets me hot,
Is seeing souls,
In other circles,
Drinking,
Flaming
Shots!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Ha, ha, ha! Good one. Now how do you both collaborate on something like that. I can only imagine the giggles that created this. Adeline