Something there is that hates a shoe,
that splits the fib'rous ends in two;
and tends to wear the precious tread,
and makes the runners running-dead.
With every single step I take,
it seems to make the leather break.
What dreadful demon, (naughty sprite)
would come and take my shoes at night?
Little monsters ate my sole
and left a giant gaping hole.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Daniel young I enjoyed every line, keep it up