Tas the spider (Sándor Erdős)

He moved into our wooden house
an eight-legged new resident,
caught a tiny fly
terrible, this is not right.

I quickly named him Tas,
to give it a name,
so much more intimate
I can talk to him.

Damn Tas to your taste
you stop eating flies,
I give you breadcrumbs
fill your head with.

I took it out of its net
his trembling prey,
I let it go, let it fly
find your mum.

I think Tas didn't like
the crumbs of the bakery product,
the next morning he transferred
a farm made of nets.

Re-quilted in its dwelling
he guffawed with pride,
showed that he caught a fly
he cannot live on bread.

All right, fine, whatever
I'll give you some meat,
I let the little fly go
I'll get you a Parisian.