Another dead chicken, sitting silent in her roost
didn't make me happy, gave my heart the sadness boost.
It was late at night, when evil predators came
reeking havoc in our henny's home,
made to protect them from cold and from rain.
Had nineteen henny's, now there are only six
I depended on their eggs, for those favorite cakes I would mix.
No omelets to make for the family it seems
uses to many eggs, and it seems now too extreem.
Dead hennys', poor chickens, I'm sorry my friends
That I couldn't protect you, in your coop or your pens.
You were all that ones, little hennys' should be
laying my family fresh eggs, for all of their daily breakfast needs.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Oh dear Linda - a real catastrophy, from nineteen to six hennys! ! No wonder you felt they needed this lovely dirge. A tribute to chickens is quite a rare subject. Bless you I am sure going to give you my henny-hen-Ten.! ! Well written.