The orchids are all resplendant,
snapdragons quite daintily so fine;
They are planted next to my pendant
which beautif'ly reflects the sunshine.
The rose vines are creeping up.
And poison ivy's talons stretching out.
For I do not fear, but yes, oh dear,
Who shall cut them? My trout!
For a stream runs between
even my grass-woven spear
And that is not all because I must
enthrall you: my orchids grow six feet a day.
But I must say it is really quite late
So goodbye, adieu, farewell to you.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem