She was one thousand one hundred,
Went to the hundred and first grade,
A hundred books were in her bag -
I tell the truth, it isn't humbug.
When, raising dust with her ten legs,
She walked somewhere on the road,
There always was a puppy dog
With only tail, but hundred-pawed.
She listened out with her ten ears
For every sound all around,
And ten sunburned girlish arms
Held her school bag and doggy's leash.
And ten observant dark-blue eyes
Looked at the world without worry…
But it's an ordinary story,
When it is better realized.
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(02/04/2017, Ukhta)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
That is great. You may like to read my poem phenomenal fan. Thanks