Listen, Elaine. Tho' I'm not mad on racing,
I like a little flutter now and then;
But I maintain you would not be disgracing
The family, or look like some old hen
If you just wore - Now, just a minute, please!
That pinkish frock - No, wait! Let me explain.
That pinkish frock with spots - You wouldn't freeze!
You've got your furs. Aw, listen, please, Elaine!
Now, look. We've twenty pounds. Don't let us quarrel.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem