Darkened leather is the hat,
Upon my brother who is so fat,
He sits upon the sofa seat,
And spits his words without the sweet,
What a mood for New Year's Eve,
From whiskered beard your words do bleed,
Yet despite your gruff, grouchy ways,
Our love for you just never fades.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem