Rumours!
Recounted;
But, she's like a mother to you.
War, ward!
To treat you like my daughter;
Bold, sold, old, gold, told, hold, fold, cold;
72 Hours in the land of your muse,
And, taking care of you.
The muse of life!
In the village of hope;
The muse of love!
In the village of joy;
The muse of peace!
In the village of love;
And to treat you like my daughter.
Chart, art!
Excited with the ways of life;
And, to bare-it-all with the muse of your mind,
After the rumours.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem