Tarquin Farquaharson
Was a little prone to Arson
And was always lighting matches when he could
So it all was far to strange
When someone said he should change
And they sent him out to look for planks of wood
Now someone had suggested
That his mind became infected
And while he was in the forest felling trees
They set fire to his home
And then left him all alone
In the company of several thousand bees
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem