If it gets too thick,
And humid...
With a sweating you notice drips,
It is not the heat!
It's your disposition.
If it begins to stick,
And the doing of it makes you sick.
It is not the heat!
It's your disposition.
Arguments have no benefit,
One keeps...
That soothes a fool to cool.
Arguments have no benefit,
One receives...
No matter what the time or season.
It is not the heat!
It's your disposition.
No it is not the heat.
But,
The stubbornness of your position.
Arguments have no benefit,
One receives...
No matter what the time or season.
You can blame if you wish on the heat,
But it's really your disposition.
If it begins to stick,
And the doing of it makes you sick.
It is not the heat!
It's your disposition.
Arguments have no benefit,
One keeps...
That soothes a fool to cool.
It is not the heat!
It's your disposition.
It is not the heat!
It's the sticking to your position.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem