The little men have been asleep,
To see them is much too much to keep;
There a broom is uncovered during the fountain
That lashes at them in the dreams of a mountain.
To sweep them up you require friends
Never in short supply, never to make amends;
Forces are at work this day,
This day the forces are astray.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem