He was a troubadour
Six strings to pluck
Limited tunes to play
A few favourites
The ones they know
His best of
Over and over
New ones crisp
Ready, unwanted
Does them anyway
They sigh for more
Of the old ones
The ones they know
They can sing along to
He plays them
Over and over
His best of
Six strings to pluck
He was a troubadour
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem