You know how they live in Rome
And you’re here, barefoot on the cold.
And every mile plus twenty more
You have to deal with one hundred of their boys.
Yes we know how they sleep in Rome
With no shame
With no clothes
No cold
They have so much more
Then they deserve
So come on little German boy
Fight back, make the world much worst
Take the girl
Take the coins
The gold
Take it all
It belonged to Rome.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem