Drunk naked on the bed. Too hot to sleep.
Get up. Head ache bathroom. Puking in the dark.
Where I hear the bloody birds, all go cheep.
Bird singing, open window, from the park.
No longer night. Already dawning day.
Territory grabbing thieves. Vicious bloody din.
Murdering cuckoo. Might be first of May.
Yes mate! Heard you. Summer's coming in.
Back to my stifling room to rest.
Summer has come to this isle in the west.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem