When Aunt Jane died we hunted round, And money everywhere we found. How much I do not care to say, But no death duties will we pay, And Aunt Jane will be well content We bilked the bloody Government.
While others spent she loved to save, But couldn't take it to her grave. While others save we love to spend; She hated us but in the end Because she left no Testament To us all her possessions went.
That is to say they did not find A lawyer's Will of any kind. Yet there was one in her own hand, A Home for Ailing Cats she planned. Well, you can understand my ire: Promptly I put it in the fire.
In misery she chose to die, Yet we will make her money fly. And as we mourn for poor Aunt Jane The thought alleviates our pain: Perhaps her savings in the end Gave her more joy than we who spend.
Volunteers needed to translate poetry into different languages. Please help us correct the translation of these poems. We currently have 79,663 translations and are trying to create the largest and most accurate database of world poetry translations. We have started with machine translations which are very inaccurate. Please translate your favorite poem on this site. You will be given credit for your translation and a link to your site if desired. COPYRIGHT NOTICE: These poems have been gathered and submitted by many of people, and from many sources. Most have no copyright. However, some may may have copyrights. We have tried to collect poems that appear on many external sites where the author seems to want to disseminate. If you are an author and do not want your poetry translated into other languages then send a removal request and it will be promptly removed.