Karen, oh, Karen,
Everything but barren,
As a tree that bears many fruits,
Nice are your branches,
Nice are your roots,
You eat many books,
Swallow them whole,
They don't stand a chance,
You are the eagle, books the vole,
You do not believe,
In anything after,
But I see me and you,
In eternal laughter,
On grasses green learning croquet,
Since in this life we hammer often crochet,
You also love the pet shop boys,
Even thought I don't like much that noise,
They are okay,
Stay, the way, you are.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem