There was a young girl from Baltimore
Who said that she didn't know the score.
—Though I thought I might rue it
—I showed her how to do it
And we practiced right there on the floor.
We went at it all day and night
Trying to get it just right.
—She was an adept pupil
—With nary a scruple
She practiced with all of her might.
As her teacher I didn't use force
And I didn't feel any remorse.
—Though I was her professor
—I had to possess her
And I made her repeat the course.
(Gave her an A+)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem