Again with the sternest of lectures,
I tell myself 'I told you so! '
Drawn in by their textures,
Then driven out; loathed.
But they're so pretty at the start,
In the beginning, they're almost sweet.
With love, you surrender your heart,
Perfect timing for their feast!
Are all women the same?
I'm almost convinced of that!
Maybe not:
But not by my latest stats!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem