Christmas was coming, Santa was down with a cold,
His coat was all damp, and covered with mould.
His sleigh needed painting, it was covered with soot,
And he just couldn't find, one shiny black boot.
Santa's head started buzzing, it was one big fat ache,
When he thought of the toys, that he still had to make.
He wanted to grumble, He wanted to groan,
He wanted to shout, He wanted to moan.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem