The thing which most babies enjoy
Is playing with a toy
Seen from the light of this fact, this boy
(By the name Robert Troy)
Had one and the only one.
He treated it like a holy man
And kept it no only for fun,
But to raise it as his sire on him had done.
It happened that his sire hanged the toy on the wall
And the little son felt petty for the doll
He took a quick neck-cut with a nice which was on the floor
And laid down in absence of his soul.
His death (which was followed by a study
To investigate the effects of all toys except buggies)
Summoned parents, children and everybody.
From there it was demanded children and toys are no longer buddies.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem