Es steht in unserer kleinen Stadt
ein Plumsklo, ganz aus Glas.
Nur einer, der die Nerven hat
kann sagen dass er sass,
umgeben von dem Publikum
und putzt sich dann den Po
da bleibet der Mensch vor Staunen stumm
in diesem frechen Klo.
Die Schilder sagen Einwegglas
das kann ja viel bedeuten,
ich pinkele und lass mein Gas
nicht vor so vielen Leuten.
Our city has a toilet
it stands within the square,
but, if you're into etiquette
you will not go and bare.
The cubicle is made of glass,
you watch the world go by,
they see you as you wipe your ass
in there you can't be shy.
The signs all say it's one-way glass
yet you are not so certain,
next time you need to go, you pass
your pee behind a curtain.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Another dedication to that vile but necessary bodily function that we all share. I guess it takes a doctor to celebrate such 'matters' (pun unintended but pretty neat, no?) . Yours squeamishly (yeah, right!) , Gina.