We sat opposite
and prepared to dine.
God how i wanted to make you mine.
My conscience battled wrong versus right,
but oh, what a wonderful and perfect sight.
My eyes feasted on a banquet of beauty,
and my heart grew fat on wanting.
or was it all that Spag. Bol. I ate?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem