I heard he had a good saw
I heard he like to give trees a trim
So I watch him at his work
And skillfully he did begin
So I thought I could trust
This young boy, a farmer's son was him
It gave me pain when I saw him
Sawing away at the limbs
Killing my tree with his saw
Killing my tree with his saw
I thought he was just pruning
But he was really killing my tree with his saw
He said that it had a diseased
And that it could not be saved
So before I had a chance to stop him
He started sawing it away
Like as if it didn't matter
And now it's gone today
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem