I start my journey with a hoot,
And lap a hundred miles,
I pick and dropp a thousand people,
And spread a million smiles.
Mountains, hills and valleys,
I bustle through the plains,
I wind about risky paths,
Every now and then.
I dabber against the wind,
And run with a hefty load,
I face countless rigors,
Yet, comfort the passengers on board.
I travel all day long,
Halting at thirteen stations,
And finally reach Lincoln-shire,
Yes, that's my destination.
Though the path is arduous,
I go on all the way,
For, I always remember,
Rome was not built in a day! !
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem