Ant knowing how people dropp crumbs,
gathers them.
In hoard, day after day risking feet of many,
one crumb at a time.
Ant carries them on it's back, bundles oh so
many, held in keep.
In the midst of famine, ant takes it's cookies
back to the trail of crumbs, to the inn keeper.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem