But people bored him in abstinence,
Never did quakes be jolly,
Not in the slightest, not in the slightest.
My improvement stems from too much lager,
Hunting the brain, keeping the rings
Allowed to some for wearing and tearing.
But people have minute requests,
In the offering, in the famous sayings,
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem