Of beauty unseen,
and manner like a queen,
she dances with me,
like a child of thirteen
The ease of my idleness
begins to disappear
when my eyes behold her
as she drops her brassiere
But lo and behold!
it did not last long
because my love for her body
as foretold, wasn't as strong
What could have been wasn't
yet I want her back
my soul can't be mollified
for its core hath been cracked
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem