Upright, hold on tight.
My best, is Beauregard.
Up and down, love is.
Will it be airtight?
So breath, all night,
the moon if out of sight.
Beneath the tree,
green moss hangs down.
Tell me lass,
how you have loved.
When,
loved have you been loved?
Beauregard's the best.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem