A really good nut I did find
To bury for a later date.
This squirrel is always of a mind
To age a nut before it's ate.
Other squirrels are watching me, so
The nut's burying, I pretend.
Tiz hard for other squirrels to know
Into which hole the nut will end.
I make each empty hole filled in,
As though this is the nut's real spot,
Leaving the other squirrels again
To think tiz here, but here nut's not.
Too oft I am forgetful me.
That nut I buried - where it be?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem