He spoke for a while about livestock and 'things'
How we need pollinators, how a skylark just sings
He was so influential, and chose his words well
Then he slipped on the wet floor and said: 'F***ing hell! '
Not used to blaspheming, he said 'I beg your pardon
Who left this much water on the path in my garden? '
Reminding him that he had left the tap on
His wife said 'oh darling, I think your mind's gone! '
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem