I knew a young boy named; Little Mr. hinkle
who loved to use his hose to sprinkle.
When he goes out side, his mother screams out a cry
'Little Mr. Hinkle please use the hose to sprinkle! '
'The bushes are not the place to go
do you know that Little Mr. Hinkle? '
He didn't hear, as his mothers voice grew near
and continued to sprinkle with his tinkle! '
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem