Between two shaves twenty-four hours apart
I had, in my youth, ample time to start
And complete many an important task
And, in the sunlight, still manage to bask.
But now my shaves seem fewer hours apart,
Unable to sandwich neither craft nor art,
Nor to invoke the divine afflatus,
Nor to let manage the earthly flatus.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem