We can, as human beings and the rest of other creatures, get Grains of wheat out of that pretty spike of grain, That spike of grain will turn into Grains of wheat that in turn They become flour that we make our bread out of it, That pretty spike of grain makes A lot of people work and A lot of people benefit out of it, The baker and his bakery produce all kinds of bread, The mills make all kinds of flour, Many things can be made out of these spikes of grain, Many people get involved to get us that great bread Which they say it was made in heaven before God gave it to us, A spike of grain is everyone's pretty friend, so We all love it greatly and dearly anytime. ______________________________________________________________________
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I would like to translate this poem