Sometimes I present with gravitas
Sometimes with abitis
You are an aulic bibelot
That simply won't sit still on a shelf
Such a crepuscular girl
Who sleeps on a trampoline
I'm more the diurnal eburnean funambulist
You took me for a Gomer Pyle goliard
(but please don't make me Orff)
I took you like hydromel....(hic)
But you are no iatric balm
Seeing as how I'm no fool
If you're looking up my kedgeree
You'll find it quite Lucullan
If you think this follows meliorism
Well it won't 'cause I'm only half way through
And in my jussive way say....stop!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem