I have a story to tell you, grand son,
It'll bring you joy, and so much fun
I once saw a man walking in a street,
He was not looking under his feet,
And that's why he fell in an opened gutter,
Though he has no ladder,
He got out, and I saw this strange look upon his face.
Next day,
I saw him riding his motorcycle in the same, same street,
And though he was riding, he was looking under his feet,
And that's how he was hit by a car,
He was wearing no helmet, And thus… he didn't learn so far.
From your grand pa you'd have these words;
Son… you look under your feet,
But never let your head be pendent…
And thus you can walk at any street,
And neither will you need a ladder, nor a helmet.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem