A farmer lived on his farm in harmony Every day he played his harmonica
Held it in his arm
Played for all on farm
Every one cringed at the harmonics
Harmony
Joram the farm hand was a lazy bum
He would hum and play harmonica crops facing harm
The farmer, angry, rapped him on the forearm
Harmony came when the harmonica was sold by Joram.
Harmony
He got paid
And forgot what he said
Repeatedly went drinking
Madam was always thinking
One day she poured whisky in a cup
Nursed hangovers when she woke up
Years of harmony followed sharing with him
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Harmony with harmonica. Beautiful