Onotae there was an old tricks
I used to survived the long miles from home
When I gets bored in my upper room
Thinking of the spices and my woman of dreams
I wrote down her names in my heart
Made the wishes that bring back hope
That special one that stood so tall
Her names rang like a bell in my heart
She is among the spices I thought
hers was special she came too glare
I knew it was her spicing my thoughts
she whom I was in love with
yesterday, today and tomorrow
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem