Brown boy rushing in and out all day
and singing that song, I love to play.
When I'm faced with what you say,
Tease him not, lest he miss me,
and Sara never came to run there away.
Leave me/my world or come out and play,
And when I stop blushing you kiss me,
it is then, that I know, why I miss you.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem