So little did he know just because.
And what it was for, for was it just want?
Even I pealed my celery often back then.
Between all that was even then.
The cloth of the nuns felt the same but there hands.
In the rectory safe tucked hidden between.
The unmovable cloud puckered fish cheeks.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem