sweet shinny berries cling
between tiny twigs hiding
from hungry beaks of desire
and watering lips on fire
to reach with hand possible
to climb a tree i do prefer
when branches start to swing
i can catch some fruit falling
bursting on my hand dark red
leaving stain too hard to get rid
so as i smile has painted my teeth
i did picked a few for taste
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem