What is there sad,
For a handsome lad?
Is his mind a scribbling pad,
That makes him go mad?
What has he had,
All that is bad?
With friends a cup of wine,
For him to turn into swine.
He knows not, what it does mean,
But finds himself a queen.
Worships God till things are done,
Then he preaches there is none.
Oh lad, change for better.
If not, life is a gutter.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem