I’m a snake of three feet long,
I’ve got colours that all look wrong,
I’ve got blue and green
That should not be seen,
A red, a yellow and a orange.
I’m striving along an acre of grass,
That’s got a bed of clover,
A gardener is coming over,
He picks me up, thinks I’m a stick,
I frighten him out of his wits.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem