1Don Pedro from his shirt has washed the fleas
2his exaltation shocked both youth and crone
3old corned-beef’s rusty armour spreads disease
4normal one aims to be and share the throne
5Oh how oh how he hates such pilferings
6signalling gauchos very rarely shave
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8that every verbal shock aims to deprave
9The peasants’s skirts on rainy days she’d tress
10in indian summers Englishmen drink grog
11to prove mamma an adult with a tress
12No need to cart such treasures from the fog
13with marble souvenirs then fill a slum
14in cognac brandy is Bacardi rum?
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