Maggy Magola the twilight gal
Who sold her thighs for half a dime,
Was without any true pal
And thought good morals were a crime.
Her livelihood came from her flickering thighs
That sparkled in the muffled semi-darkness of the streets;
She took semi-distilled rum to harden her eyes
As she danced to the most wobbly music beats.
She sold herself too much to unquenchable lust
Till she became a meal to the worms of the dust.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem