We sit around the table
elbows poised and hands on chins
as airy voices ring in our ears
first about dogs
a pack of them chasing some poor deer
then we hear of a black and white
spotted monster
from there to Rabby Burns
who’s breeding like rabbits!
Then on to the poor misses who has everything
but doesn’t know what to do
and then a serenade
about people standing on their heads,
ah but it doesn’t finish there
my lurid tale is yet to befall their ears.
Heaven help them!
2 May 1985
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem