I am her that celebrates my wanton ways.
To lure men with my words is my intent,
with me he'll spend his nights, with you, his days
And i shall bat my eyelash and he gaze,
my stockings high and all my condoms spent;
For i am her that celebrates my wanton ways.
Oh cant you hear him singing all my praise,
My laugh, my looks, my legs, it evident;
with me he'll spend his nights, with you, his days
And you on your poor knees to heaven raise
In fervent prayer, praying i repent,
But i am her that celebrates my wanton ways.
Your nuptials cold, and he in my bed blaze;
He's entering behind: my back is bent
Thus, with me he'll spend his nights, with you his days
Oh look at me and mock me; count my days.
I hate him, but his monies pay my rent
For i am her that celebrates my wanton ways
with you, he'll spend his life, with me his pays.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
great piece, like the rhymes