The Miner began to dig,
Every foot, he took a swig.
He dug down fast,
With blast after blast.
He found a cave,
And did not behave.
He ran aroun',
And he ran down.
He found a vein,
Gold it contained.
His pick flew,
Until he was through.
He found a brook,
From it he took.
He picked a rock,
Out of the flock.
Went through the hole,
Just like a mole.
Down he fell,
And now he's in hell.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem