This is a story of a lad,
I think his name is Bradd.
A unholey woman done a spell,
So Bradd could not tell.
We never heard or did he spoken,
Otherwise his heart would be broken.
Now he hangs there in shame,
On a picture frame.
That was the story of the lad,
Poor Bradd.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem