A romantic interlude, is like a momentous affair...
Surrounded, perhaps, by a lot of silence and pure bridled, uncare.
No one around you is at all aware...
That two others, for each, may-really do care.
First impressions, might make one sweat, and nervous...
But even, a man, cannot ignore her curvous.
She, be a love, at one, first sight...
After, have met him, the first time, that night.
Love can be such a fickle thing...
Since the beginning of time, that man first learned to sing.
Love, is the best thing, since the discovery of fire...
Or the Polygraph, to weed out, one biggest, fat liar.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Sad but true and too funny. Anyway, I give it a 10