He was twirling and twitrling
His moustache,
Oiling and oiling
And twirling,
Mr.Mocchu,
I mean Mocchiyal
And smiling,
Smiling it himself
With the twists and turns
Of the mustache
Into the half-white vest
And the shorts,
A typical fellow.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem