When I was young and had no sense
In far-off Mandalay
I lost my heart to a Burmese girl
As lovely as the day.
Her skin was gold, her hair was jet,
Her teeth were ivory;
I said, 'for twenty silver pieces,
Maiden, sleep with me'.
She looked at me, so pure, so sad,
The loveliest thing alive,
And in her lisping, virgin voice,
Stood out for twenty-five.
Ridiculously childish draft of a writing task, only plausible from a clumsy drunken freshman.
If we call that a poem, we should redefine poetry. It is not only grotesque but also misogynistic.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Sad to see the filth of academia in here, over-programmed with hate, Marxism, and their sjw intent. This poem is beautiful, genius, and heart wrenching truth. Simple and elegant, more real than the life these commentaries present.
Funny since Orwell was 100% Marxist. Idiot.