Look at the black bat,
as sneaky as a cat,
always stealin' what isn't hers.
She keeps still
in the shadows until
the moment comes to make her move.
The thieving bats name is stealth,
for that describes herself.
You couldn't keep a thing safe
if you tried.
When you think you're alone,
and (trust me) you never will be,
just sittin' home
remember she's lurking near, you see.
Oh, the cheating black bat,
all my possessions now belong to that rat!
How glorious revenge sounds to me.
But, alas, who guards her but our queen.
The scoundrel took too much
that even a thief as such
should be satisfied.
But, no! She never is!
I often dream of the day I'll catch her!
The first thing I'll do is rip off her fur!
Until that day has arrived...
the big black bat is here.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem