The cards are laid, the bets are made,
and now my luck is called.
But I command the winning hand,
three aces won't be stalled.
The players thought, that's all I brought,
but seven stud's my game.
I show a king, what will they bring,
a single card remains.
They think I bluff, the game gets rough,
but all the players stay.
The final card, is no canard,
another king I play.
The gamblers moan, and start to groan,
to make excuse and grouse.
I did not cheat, no one can beat,
my beautiful full house.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Cheating is not good. No one can beat at all. House is beautiful and full of luck. Wisely penned wonderful poem this is.10
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