A big black bird fell down one day
And landed in my po.
Oh pss! I cried and picked it out.
An old bedraggled Crow.
What shall I do with it, I asked.
As it began to caw.
Oh, shove it down the bog, you said.
No one will ever know.
It's not much use to anyone
All it does is swear.
They may fly high to some we know
But they're really lowly liars.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem