I am the muse that speaks and the carnal mind is around too,
But my love to you is like the sweet potaotes!
For in it you will find the teaches about self control.
The vessels are fine and my muse is ready,
With words from the nosological relatives around;
But, i will paddle my own canoe for the sake of love.
The riddle of this muse and the rhythm of the blues,
The fiddle of the fields and the songs of love,
Like the digestive systems of man;
But the ruminants are like the surgical stapler.
Oh, what's love got to do?
Somewhere, anywhere, nowhere!
Cain hated Abel and i loved you;
But to cogitate is to love you all the way.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem