There is a man who is very old,
The winter is very, very cold,
The old man sold,
His wedding ring made of gold,
To buy the bread with the mold,
His wife was very angry and she did scold,
So sad that the flowing tears he could not hold,
Because she is so big and bold,
About his hunger he never told,
Oh! old man, you are really a poor soul,
Cos your visual acuity is very low.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem