You can't blame me now
For the customer's names on
The red receits are
Long-shaped enough like
A broom-stick
You can't blame me now
For in advance I
Had looked at the
Buggies's bottoms and
Tops just before
You'd sneaked behind my
Back to hand your eye to
Every little mistake
My pink-purple face
Is simply the same as
Those who leap as pleased
And most of all I
Am a child, and you,
My father.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A good poem with didactic appeal and personal touch.