La Seine - Poem by Herbert Nehrlich
There once was a fellow named Harris,
a comedian whose wife was called Clarice.
They performed on a stage
with old Rolf in a cage
and she took him (so clever) to Paris.
On the top of the Eiffel Tower
when the clock struck the twenty-third hour,
he was left in the rain
looking down on the Seine
but he really had needed the shower.
Comments about La Seine by Herbert Nehrlich
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
- Still I RiseMaya Angelou
- The Road Not TakenRobert Frost
- If You Forget MePablo Neruda
- DreamsLangston Hughes
- Annabel LeeEdgar Allan Poe
- Stopping By Woods On A Snowy EveningRobert Frost
- IfRudyard Kipling
- Do Not Stand At My Grave And WeepMary Elizabeth Frye
- I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love YouPablo Neruda
- TelevisionRoald Dahl