o! my slate and o! my pencil,
count you all these sums for me,
by the break of morrow dawn,
i'll buy a milkice for you.
it is not a single one,
each of you'll get a one.
o! the slate,
if you cheat me counting wrong,
i'll break you flinging down.
o! the pencil,
i'll break you hitting hard.
'am not lacking counting sums!
'amn't feeling sleepy now!
if i don't clean all these plates,
don't i brim these water drums,
o! my slate and o! my pencil!
won't they grind me into flour?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
perhaps using calculator will make things easier..........lol..............love it