It visits me; Thursday evenings
because it is the night
when it is free responsibilities for its parish.
The day before he visits;
freedom I can't obtain thought out of lt's spirit,
I envisage ghostly; now how angles
I will welcome to him with a great juicy kiss
and cold glass milk,
and the cat becomes so wet
that the fork of my breeches is soaked.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem