Naked at birth
Tattered in life
The barrowboy's
School was swallowed by dearth
So he got his name with his good head.
Those who didn't have
Scabbies got the fingernails
And they had an additional backbone
Which gave them the right to ticket wares
In the motorpark.
But they couldn't write
Anybody's name on the receipt
Like the wheelbarrowboy could do
They took the books to their boss
Who wondered how people
Without nails could scratch scabbies
Truthful they said, 'boss the barrowboy
Did it for us'
The boss overwhelmed
Sent for the barrowboy
Who proved his worth
And this is how
A barrowboy became a man.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem