Writing poetic confessions is akin to visiting a Nudist state
Well, the concept sounds good, but all this exhibitionism --
The Naked performing unsteady cartwheels, their dangly bits --
Makes it seem like a bad idea.
Taking a break in the pleasant air
Look at how happy they are,
Dancing in a circle and jerking up and down, like children,
Praising one another for being authentic and emotional.
Allowing the clean aroma strike your nostrils
And you say to yourself, 'damn, all this Nudity is attractive, '
While also recalling the how much fun you could have heard
If only you became a Nudist earlier.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem