Shall I reckon?
A reconcile around?
With any notion,
But imbecile about;
Will it defy?
'Bout sanities unknown?
Quite unwhy;
A riggle-diggle sound,
Cost you array?
Do I commit a bust?
Joke of prey,
A fought of loyal not;
Shush you would I?
A lumber of a dutch?
Not blunt cay;
A fear of every witch,
Wouldn't it plea?
But will you sit here?
Mean a shoot
Beleive it's all a near.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem