Silver-white metallic substance
protective coat on iron and steel...
once mined by Cornishmen of England
in the heyday of the winding wheel.
Popular baked bean and fruit container
used for our food since ancient days;
depending on the workforce of miners
who often died at a very young age.
Relics and remains of the tin-mines
maybe viewed against a Cornwall sky
and local cemetery headstones
will tell the truth of years gone by.
In the Wizard of Oz...with Dorothy
the woodman gave a memorable show
and whilst tin soldiers and biscuit tins exist
Bolivia's mining wealth will grow.
Tin is valuable and necessary, as
every good Cornishman will know.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem