...and then I fell in the broth of love,
and steaming though it was;
the swim felt good. How good? Wish I could tell;
but words can't fill that pause.
I drank from left,
right, bottom and above;
but, thirst, the broth could'nt quench;
thrilled yet lull,
bright withal dull;
the escapade left this wench.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.