I'm feeling rather full tonight.
I couldn't eat another bite.
I couldn't eat a half a bean,
or even taste a tangerine.
I couldn't lick a lettuce leaf
or bite the slightest bit of beef.
I couldn't polish off a pea
or sip a single dropp of tea
or nibble on a nanogram
of pickled ham or candied yam
or lamb or clam or jam or Spam.
Yes, that's how full I truly am.
To even think of eating more
would leave me lying on the floor
and surely make my stomach hurt
unless, of course, you've got dessert.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem