Aqua died, three fish left
Misfortunate but happiness kept
My oldest fish named Bubba Lee
George and Angel are two fishies
Nevertheless, I love Bubba most
To my goldfish, I raise a toast
I grab their food, like every night
Seeming everything is alright
But Bubba is not, he struggles so hard
Ace of spades in a deck of cards
I kneel to the floor and wish him life
I can’t imagine his terrible strife
Something catches the side of my eye
A fungus disease, in a plant, it lies
I realize it, the fuzzy ball
I once had Demon, that fish I call
He disappeared, I see him, now
He poisoned the friend I had five years, now
George waits, Bubba dies
Angel sings while I cry
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem