A man was sitting
On a donkey's back,
That wasn't moving
As it was slack.
He tied a carrot
To the tip of a stick,
And held it in front
For it to pick.
While it moved forward,
The carrot also moved,
As he was at its back,
Holding the carrot stick.
Its mouth wide open
Chased the carrot fast,
Till it went on and on
To the destination last.
To every man at work,
Shirking at his desk,
Will the carrot and stick,
Of late, play the trick?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem