O my! Wondrous soul..
Could feel this
Beauty blowing breeze.
She's as neat as color white
As clean as a sterilized object
O my! Wondrous soul.
She has this face of an Angel
Yet attracts the devil
Like bean and a weavil.
All organic like trees in the garden
Her gaze could overcharge the sun
She can create confusions in heaven.
Speaking of the devil,
Her waist began with a needle
And curved out righteousness evil.
A type that gets the toad singing
She's superb but her hips got a thing
Broad and broadcasting
Come and sin
Until you've seen,
You wouldn't believe her hips could tear a jean.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem