IF I was grown to be a man, and you
And all the others that are workin' here
Was always under me, and I could clear
The place to-morrow if I wanted to,
I'd buy an easy chair all nice and new
And get a bird to sing above your head,
And let you set and rest all day, instead
Of hammerin' them keys the way you do.
I'd bounce that long-legged clerk and then I'd raise
Your wages and move up my desk beside
Where you'd be settin', restin' there, and I'd
Not care about the weather--all the days
Would make me glad, and in the evenings then
I'd wish 't was time to start to work again.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem