I was enjoying the bright moonlight,
Rambling about the starboard,
Rambling about the starboard,
I let my memory go stray backwards.

My ship glided through the calm sea,
Cleaved through brief obfuscate,
Cleaved through brief obfuscate,
My ship exited into the starry waters.

And you will never believe what I saw,
I saw my spirit lifted from me,
I saw my spirit lifted from me,
My body falling dead on starboard.

Out of the body, my spirit wandered,
It wandered furthermore,
It wandered furthermore,
I hope they would cremate my body.

I want to reach your Kàìláshà
Rescue me, my Shiva,
Rescue me, my Shiva,
They reach you through the land.

I shall reach your realm gliding,
Receive me, my Shiva,
Receive me, my Shiva,
Zapping through the night sky.

Your Yamaraj reaches closer,
May they stay happy, my family,
May they stay happy, my family,
Let them move on peacefully.

Ich liebe Sie, meine Dame.

Ihr Lächeln ist sehr schön,
Ich liebe Ihr amüsantes Schmunzelen.

Ihre Lippen sind so süß,
Ich liebe Ihre herzige Lefzen.

Ihr Lieb ist so attraktiv,
Ich liebe Ihr **** Körper.

Ihre Brüste sind so voll,
Ich liebe Ihren zarten Busen.

Ihre Stimme ist so verführerisch,
Ich liebe Ihre melodische Stimme.

Ihre Hüften sind so Sanft,
Ich liebe Ihre weiche Hüften.

Ihre Zähne sind perfekt,
Ich möchte Ihre perfekten Zähne lecken.

Writing poem is like,
Pouring out your heart in rhyme form.

Make rhyming strike,
And not regular free form a social norm.

Birdlike, not childlike,
Respect poetry, it's not cuss but an art form.

Unread. I am a poem,
Read me. I deserve your time,
Heartless. Drop-in your heart for me.

Thirsty. Rain your love,
Feed me. I love your reviews,
Artless. All my words are so truthful.

Story. I am an unforgettable saga,
Narrate me. Retell me to your family,
Fearless. I become proud forevermore.

My head feels heavy when
I get a lot of hair,
Or when I've an unsuitable pair.

My sight grows dim when
I get a broken heart,
Or when I see an unusual art.

My breath feels stale when
I get mouth sores,
Or in the morning I've just opened my eyes.

A poem is not
Your crass, Because
Earnestly,

A poem is not a medium to abuse,
Or a collection of cuss words.
Roses should pour from its phrases,
The poem must always be beautiful,
Aye, even if angry or hateful.

I feel scared when
I am alone in the middle of a crowd,
Which is almost always.
I feel irked when
The music is much too loud,
While the night won't irritate me.
I feel flared when
Someone abuses the language and are proud,
Which is also an insult to themselves.
I feel terrorized when
They proclaim that there's no one but Al,
Not to mention the time of their loudspeakers.