The barnyard had been scarcely scratched
When anarchy led the hens afoul
The rogue hen left the eggs unhatched
When she heard the hooting of the owl
Now with his honor to defend
With much bravado spared the flock
His feathers ruffled by one psychotic hen
Once more with victory crowed the cock
Rufus saved all but the rogue bad luck
With prowess, quickness to react
Rosie's feathers were soon plucked
When the farmer found the eggs all cracked
There's something said to be thinner
With regal comb he guards the flock
He'll not end up a Sunday dinner
As long as the farmer needs a clock.
Epilogue:
The rooster's spared the chopping block
When the farmer has no breakfast eggs
He'd rather stew the hen's fat legs
Than try and chew a tough old cock.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem