Why is that quinsy-s mouth red like fire?
Isn-t it because it-s chewing betel?
Let the new fiancée of my father
Hurry up so they can meet each other
He-ll extend to her a hearty welcome,
Welcome her with rice, he will not hit her.
It-s my mother who will poke her eyes out,
She will rip the guts out of her stomach.
Children Song
Nikolai Stepanovich Gumilev
(1)
Poem topics: father, fire, mother, red, mouth, stomach, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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