A youth called Little Jimmy came
to work at the Bar J,
and when that scrawny kid showed up,
we all just thought, 'No way! '
You've never seen a thinner boy,
‘cept maybe on TV
on those commercials where they show
some helpless refugee.
He did his best, though, I'll say that;
that youngster really tried,
but as the days went on we found
that poor boy couldn't ride.
He couldn't sit on any horse
and stay there on the seat.
He couldn't do most things we do;
all he could do was eat!
As time went on, the kid worked hard
and finally became
a worker we could be fond of,
and proud to hear his name.
Then at the roundup in the fall,
while riding with the pack,
young Jimmy slipped right off his horse
and fell flat on his back.
He would have been all right, but then
the herd began to race
and scrambled all around that boy
and stomped him in the face.
We buried him next day, but how
I wish I could forget!
Much more than thirty years have passed
but still… I haven't yet.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem