- Loula Poem by Georgios Venetopoulos

The herd was bleating and moreover grinned
while the romantic shepherd played his flute;
had never seen another femme as cute
as timid Loula, whirling in the wind.

His drunken goats were prancing on the grass,
upon the greenest fields where poppies bloomed,
with senses onerous and kinda fumed,
amid the blooms was listening to brass.

While in the sheep-cots, on the mountain glens,
the shepherds played woodwinds, forever skilled,
he heard the baaing of his flock and reeled
verse pastoral in his Mercedes-Benz.

Hence, Loula, virtuous, appealed to rams
inducing rumination-cheering notes
and soon, the drunken sheep and tripping goats
the shepherd's dance convoyed, with flutes and drums.