When inspiration guides me
My thoughts they blossom anew,
To write down poems in rhyme and scan,
Each day and New Year too.
My first verse comes to me slowly,
The second follows on from there,
By the fourth, I begin to waver,
What I write, I must take care.
My poems must not offend you,
Cause distress, or upset, or blame,
I know not whence the words come,
But my third verse has finished again.
Two more verses are needed,
Of four lines each are required,
At two in the morning I must hurry,
Boy! Am I getting tired.
It's marvelous how easy the words come,
Two minutes ago, I started line one,
Now I've almost finished this poem,
To be read and reviewed by everyone.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem