Sweet, Sweet Caroline,
Lips as tasty as a sweet, sweet wine,
Upon her lips again I wish to drink
Until I am drunk, and no worries to think,
Then upon her sweet and tender breast
My head and my worries I will rest,
Then I would find my peaceful sleep
Where dreams and paradise I would reap;
But, I couldn't drink and I couldn't even doze
My heart was full of sadness and anger and woes,
My mind is in torture and my soul is in pain
Will we ever see each other once again?
It all began from a sweet and tender kiss
In the park with needs we could never dismiss,
Now that park has become my sacred shrine
While I wait for Sweet, Sweet Caroline.
Randy L. McClave
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem