Whine, whine, pine and whimper
You'd take my shirt and all but my zipper.
Like little babes, they bleat their charms
At the passerby.
Please, sir hold me in your arms,
while staring at the sky.
The slightly sliver of inattention
is met with sharp repuke.
Or may as well be, despite intention
So much was their rebuke.
Annoying some find their cry,
and try pass and pass them by.
How dastard, daring starck-tempered devil,
to meet such repute with icy hell.
Really, answered, what deserved are you?
You who spew and spew and spew?
I already answered once, no twice, not ev' three,
to your box, yet you shout back at me.
I tried to teach you, you don't want to learn,
For every soul reached in a hand
Sayest you, die, die and burn
Whine, whine, Pine and whimper,
You'd take my shirt and all, my whimper...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem