i reach berry above my head
drops before i could get it
more on drooping branch sweet
birds are picking; busy beaks
heard something crashing above
errand ball from misguided club
my shadow i am stepping it on
am thirsty i don't have my own
might as well wait 'til am home
breezy wind on my face, awesome
fresh smell of newborn leaves
sweet scents for geese young babes
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem