Why sitteth there, like uncollected ash in our tables?   
Picking thy hairless nose 'til it bleedeth furthermore.   
Why dart thine sight across -- upon Gringo's sisters?   
Who thou doth not courage to approach.   

Forgive me, brother, if I calleth thee an oaf   
And verily listen as what I sayeth ere   
For 'tis but truth and truth the truth, sincere:   
There canst be more wisdom insofar than   
If thee wouldst courteth only a maiden deltan   

Brother, thou unbeliever yet   
Doth thou hath farsighted eyes, mayest know I?   
Or hast thy hairless nose deceiveth thee nigh?   
Her perfume burns like her faith o'er our struggle   
-- And though keepeth asking endlessly whom she invites?   

Alas, foolish brother thou art indeed! Woe unto thee!   
Pity a poor dim-wit soul I wilt, so handeth now the paddle   
please ...   

NJBU 87-F   NMFC-PRO