With Pouting Lips Poem by Liza Sud
With Pouting Lips
Again with pouting lips you go away,
My darling, as the country of old days,
And pass your finger all along my back,
So that I thought of you when making love!
But I know, you'll come back again in spring - as
A farmer returns to his own field,
And we'll enjoy our new freedom,
Love for each other, you, in fact - it's me.
Tuesday, September 22, 2015
Topic(s) of this poem: translation
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4/23/2024 4:43:08 PM # 1.0.0.1119
enjoy new freedom, good one, thanks.