When I see me I get all inspired.
It's a wonder I'm not more admired.
On a pedestal high I should be,
turning slow for the faithful to see.
Then should I belch or pass gas,
I'd cry, "How rude and how crass! ",
and the world a contrite, "Pardon me! ".
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Thanks Judy blatherwick uno