I'm glad I can't remember
Just what I ate for lunch
Was it a nettle cookie
Or a nut and tofu crunch?
I am tired of waiting for someone
Who will reinvent the dinner
That's a joy to eat and quite a treat
And doesn't make you thinner.
If you eat at a pub
Or dine at your club
The outlook is very much brighter
Than for a tiny pile of weird food
Served up by a cookery writer.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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