My Granny had a rooster;
That she fondly called Banner.
‘Pon the fence he’d perch each morn
In such a stately manner.
‘Twas a tiny rooster
And what a star was he.
We, little children, thought he was
As cute as cute could be.
Come each dawn he’d crow.
And crow. And crow. And crow.
And when we thought he’d stopped,
All the more he’d crow.
But Banner did his duty,
None could call him trife.
Alas, he lived a very long
And happy rooster life.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
so easy flowing and enjoyable.