There's a bend in my plumbing,
That makes Jr. point left.
Sometimes it gets lost,
On the way to the cleft.
But a small shriek will warn me,
That the direction is wrong.
And Jr. will soon see,
That he doesn't belong.
Then he carries on,
With his one good eye.
And gets going strong,
With the old college try
Don Juan Tenorio
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem