The buzzard said to the pig "shall I build a sty in the sky? "
The pig heard not a word as the buzzard flew by.
So the buzzard took the pig to the top of a mountain high
and there he said to the pig "did you know pigs can fly? "
so as the pig took a step to his cloudy sty
he plummeted off the cliff and on the rocks below did die
And with his invention of this little lie,
the buzzard got a delicious shoofly* pie.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem