Man bending over
Root on ground he pulls
Unearthed by Earth Mover
Chinese; he pulls
Bare hands hurt
He is still in his hat
Though sun scotches all
Even I beneath moving hall
Twists the root
Turns the Root
Finally he is able to uproot
Smiles as he wipes against his boot
Which lets out a whispering hoot
Counts his fortune; sets on foot
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem