An old poet lived at poetryfalls,
With his wife named Poetrifia,
They had two children,
Named poem and Poetry,
Outside there poettage,
They had a small garden,
In which some poetlower bloomed,
The poet and poetrifia watered the poetlowers daily,
One day, a storm destroyed the garden,
Poetlowers were plucked off,
Poetrifia and poet sobbed nights and days,
Being old and sick, both of them died the same way,
But they had two children, named poem and poetry,
They lived upon the pages, calligraphed to eternity
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
They had two children. Nice work.