To know, how do i tell?
Different day, so are you!
Crabs hard shell, to hide
when soft is in style, eat.
Fried good, raw is butter
Blind me, sunglasses, tint.
Bottled I am not, gosh gee.
Wolves do, travel in packs,
upon a meeting, posture not.
Battles are dreary, narrowed
some days, better than others.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem