стихи про льва на британском

The lion, the lion, he dwells in the waste,
He has a big head and very small waist,
But his shoulders are stark, and his jaws they are grim
And a good little child will not play with him.

When man first went to look around
He saw a lion on the ground
The lion tried to give a smile
The man felt happy - for a while
Until he saw the lion's jaw
Full of teeth and looking for
Something good and fat to eat
So the man decided to retreat
The lion was only going to play
He'd already eaten once that day.