A lonely little daffodil
sat crying on a sandy hill.
Her fiancée had taken ill
was buried forthwith by the Mill.
Came down the path a doctor phil
out for a stroll to find a thrill,
he was a native of Brazil
and had converted oil of krill
into a small endorphin pill.
He saw the little daffodil
still crying on the sandy hill.
Administered his special pill
to stop her spiralling downhill.
He didn't stay there, on the hill
to let her have just one refill,
that's why the little daffodil
still sits there, crying, by the Mill.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Tee-hee!