In a drunken, drunken and staggering voice, voice you singing, singing the song, song of the blue raincoat heart, who, who she is, she is building her house in the desert, who, who this woman? Who, who this woman of the desert, building her, her house? Who the girl, girl with the lock with her?
I am coming, I am coming, get you, get you ready, sir! I, I a don, don, Mr. Don, Don. The music of Manhattan, Manhattan, the music of Berlin, Berlin, doing the rounds and the villain in the hat and overcoat and with a suitcase by the Manhattan island and rivers wanting to go, go by ship.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem