I thought I'd take a plane to Spain
and see Castille and then Madrid.
The thought kept banging on my brain:
I thought I'd take a plane to Spain.
Long nights drummed pain, and then that plane!
I moved as dead as old El Cid...
I thought I'd take a plane to Spain
and see Castille and then Madrid.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem