'The Minstrel and his lute'
I saw her here just a day ago...
she passed with a man, her spirits low...
the picture you show is certainly her
she was here just yesterday
of that..
to be sure...
Please don't cry, Sir, I'll play you a song...
the man she was with was certainly wrong..
he held her so close she became
all dismayed..
he hugged her..
he squeezed her
his lazy hand played...
But when he put his hand
in the back of her pocket
she looked away far
then just opened her locket...
just then she saw me
playing lute, looking on,
her eyes looked so true, not unlike a fawn..
I yielded them both and asked, 'What it is'?
I asked to play them a song
this must have been wrong
for shiz..
For he grabbed my fine lute
and threw it like money..
you know? ..the well heeled type
, no class, and with the wrong honey?
Ah, hell my guess:
they be in Norway today..
If you don't stop crying Sir
I shall put my lute away..
Why do you want that jane anyhow?
She's a gold digger for sure...
for which, there's no cure..
as he certainly looked like a cow.Duh?
-Albert George Vinny
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem