Jack and Jill went over the hill
'cause the top was very small
They bounced and rolled right down the hill
like a great big rubber ball
They bounced with the pail of water
that they gathered at the top
Bruised and wet they kept on falling
and, prayed that they would stop
They finally stopped and came to rest
at the bottom of the hill
Then ran for home to change their clothes
before they caught a chill
There's a moral to this story
getting water is no fun
when you take another to the top
That was made to fit just one
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem