So you finaly won the lottery.
You lied about your age, you
being young.
At the foot of your tub there
are stirrups.
And the hollow for your necks
like a pillow.
Both ends being equal pulled up.
With a flick of the wrist, it's open
and wide,
And the waters been off for a while.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem