Just outside the baker's shop
Is where most pigeons choose to stop.
Upon the ground,
They search around
For something to eat -
A nice, tasty treat.
Every crumb, every flake,
They'll spot and they'll take.
Pastry, they love -
They can't get enough!
Whether it's shortcrust or puff;
Whether it's fresh or it's tough.
Some of them rush, some of them hobble
Towards the food which they will then gobble.
When they spot it, they'll dash:
They'll be there in a flash.
Every morsel they seek,
Whether savoury or sweet.
As long as it is edible,
They consider it incredible.
Whether from a pie or a slice,
They consider it nice.
Crumbs from cookie or cake,
They will happily take.
Crumbs from a roll
Often help fill a hole.
Crumbs from a yum-yum,
They so love in their tum.
They'll squabble and butt
Over crumbs from a doughnut.
They are happy to savour
Many different flavours.
Only at the close of day,
Will they give up and fly away.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem