The children plays
Through plays their enjoyment
Ever it is beautiful
Their happiness vital.
The children played
The small ball as football
Somewhere it missed
Searched at large, but missed
The ball they lost, they thought
A little boy of seven
Helped to search the ball
The ball that fallen
In the hole of a near hump.
Hilarious were they
Rejoiced in happiness
Someone tried to take the ball
But there appeared a hood
The hood in position
The serpent that hid in hole.
Emotions are temporary
Always changes in slightest moment
The children all unhappy
Their ball ever missed
And play stopped for the day.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem