Pretend to be magnetic.
Don’t smoke.
Sing “Laura”, “Fools Rush In”, “You Give Your Hand To Me”,
“Oh, Lonesome Me”, “Buckaroo”, etc.
The writer writes:
Church prostitution, amor libre, sociedad, amor bueno,
Arcipreste de Hita, Sweet Georgia Brown.
And you call that talent!
Obviously.
Prove it!
You’ll never see twenty-three this month.
A birthday gift.
A gift for my mother.
A gift for my girlfriend.
The stars are blue tonight.
Friendly arguments.
Scream, laugh.
All my fault.
Interest me.
No need to exercise my eccentricities.
Truth is fixed.
Everytime time the cold comes I’ll smile.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem