my intimate friend told me the story
I laughed and paused as it was a tale of merry:
'it was about two pm
I am out of meal though a man of fame
I get a chance to enter into a restaurant
where occurs the miracle-
everyone I find is eating by left hand
I do not change but take the seat in a corner
any how I manage to sit showing them back
at the end I go to wash my hands at the basin
and I start to set the style of my hair
what?
am I using my left hand?
oh! it is the looking glass!
mine is the fault…
Oh! The poor customers! My poor eating friends! '
he finished his.
attack of the mirror reflection- I have tried to do different things by using the mirror to guide my hands.... luckily no sharp objects were involved- - glad this poem reminds me of these occurrences, very humorous poem, my friend
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
The story! ! With the muse of life. Thanks for sharing.