I looked at my lips this evening
to ask if there was some mistake.
You kissed me off
in the current that made struggle.
I did the dogpaddle
and called for survival.
My wife so religious
called for a revival.
Well I drank my last Bud
and waded in a puddle.
My life is a picture so clear
yet so subtle.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem