Old Paddy he was mugged the other day
When he popped out to have a pint or two.
A group of youngsters stopped him on the way,
Demanding money then they'd let him through.
He told them where to go then they began
To punch and kick him, pushed him to the ground.
Then through his pockets grubby fingers ran,
Relieving him of everything they found.
Though in the end it wasn't much at all,
Just two pounds fifty and some cigarettes.
Their takings from this mugging was so small
The state of Paddy filled them with regrets.
'Why did you fight so hard? ' one asked in shock.
'To save the fifty quid hid in my sock'.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem