Oh, quarantine, my quarantine.
Having lived to senile gray hair,
I'm stuck like a mouse at home have been.
Going outside two months I don't dare.
I sit and stare at the PC screen.
I'm obliged to wear a mask all day.
My wife in the house is the Queen -
I mustn't take the mask out and throw away.
As well as to follow her direction
For no love, sir for you, no affection.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem