Comments are frying, as people cook
And they stir, burn and dash like fire.
Nature comments on the present
As food commands our life, for we are leaves.
To commence like the flowers
Talks of fluids in our bellies and plants.
My language stirs hatred for the lovers
If plants wilt, if they flower and burgeon.
To burn the leaves kept us a bonfire
On the day we burn and the day we bring.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem