Here lies a sailor - His name N.N.
Because his status rendered him
Irrelevant in he order of thing, those times.
Drowned here in a fiery storm
Under the eyes of old Valletta.
Died at age 47 in 1834. Date
Of death unknown. Of a broken heat
He died. The ladies who broke his heart
Today be represented by a motley
Crowd muddled by Heredity itself.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem