PLINK-PLINK-PLINK
Fumble fingers is
Direct, always
Fare and square:
'Hey' cried the tidily-
wink sailing
through the air
PLINK-PLINK-PLINK
(Once in the pot though
he'll never care-
There's forty-thousand
tidily winks already
there)
PLINK-PLINK-PLINK
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem