You hurt,
And left,
A twice hurt’
Feeble heart.
A weak heart,
With no sense of sight,
Nor insight,
Doomed by an end,
Of what for lived.
Pals her name is-
Ross,
And like a flower,
I mean a Ross,
She shines,
And beautifully scents’
I miss her warm kisses,
Her soft sighs,
Sweet breasts,
And the small size,
Of what she always-
Gave.
Ross here,
Am weaker dear,
Cant stand higher,
Am so weak,
Come back,
My flower.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem