At Caps' Age | version finale

traducteur:  Caveman1

poème traduit: W wieku kapsli (Mati12pl) - Moderator: Michał Zabłocki
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It's a vital issue
often it can't miss you:
how to get this wonder
smelling of vodka(no wonder)
rolling it is able
slowly under the table.
It can be stolen or begged
from Sophie or Margaret
on Saturday or on Sunday
this smelly cap one day.
Then hide it well,
paint it like hell:
the T-shirt made of gum
(you prompted it,chum?).
This German, that Pole
and over there - a Russian
all wearing flags
in the latest fashion.
They will all have
the same love of the kid
Coz they're not caps
but my cyclists, that's it!

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