Each morning with the coming dawn
A sluggish snail would cross my lawn
Id often hear him huff and puff
And cry out loud "I've had enough"
When darkness came and all was black
Id also see him travel back
Still cursing his big cone like shell
And shouting out fresh merry hell
I asked him why if so forlorn
Each day and night he crossed my lawn
He said I go for tea for two
And much prefer the other view
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem