We were the conical coned wizards,
privy beyond (even) pretty. We knew the
mystic shires, and the shores we walked,
and so well Venice delighted. Oh...
they are ones to relish vagarious cause,
but this was more than a mere kink.
More than mere whimsy & DOMBAKs,
we played a beat, the-e-e-e beat,
we marched to rhythms unknown.
Marching in curious variants walked
by none but we, we-e-e-e...
you, me, or was it... me... you?
.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem