A girl of november eight
gave me a kiss in June eight,
this girl i shall not hate
for our love is like fate.
But i know she can't wait
even if my love she has ones ate.
It is not my fault i don't ve faith
this feelings girls have create.
Ask her, 'what if i come late
will she still be my date? '
'will she stand by the gate
or will she say bul shait? '
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem