then wear it to the ball....
the laciest of underpinnings
never pleased 'em all....
mix rudiments of parody
with crudiments of malady
add just a pinch of anarchy,
to stir up, wake from lethargy,
the ever-flucting bandolyrists
dozing in the hall.....
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem