Leonarda he teasa
The young Mona Lisa
'Why you smila like so?
'This is odd way of smiling
'And is very beguiling,
'You gotta dark secret, I know.'
Mona she place a
Hand to her face a,
And she make a shy reply:
'Papa, I thmila like thith
'Becauth I gotta no tith.'
Then she break a down and cry.
Now Papa de Vinci
Say: 'Shush shush my Chichi,
'I tell you for what I do,
'I painta your picture,
'A beauuuutiful picture,
'And we hang it in the Louvre.'
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Hi Mandy, You know, and I know, that you did not write 'Mona Lisa'; I did. A GOOGLE search for Meintjes + 'Mona Lisa' will soon show this to be the case. I am quite happy for you to include the poem in your e-book of poems, but at least you should do the right thing and credit me with its authorship.