You say
you hope
that I will still
love you
when you’re
77.
And I say: “Well,
...no! ”
I was hoping to
love you at least
until
you were
97
& then
take out a lease
on whatever’s left
even to
infinity and beyond.
Or as
the old Irish
marriage proposal puts it:
”How
would you like to be
buried with my people! ”
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
You've made me laugh AGAIN my love! (always with joy)