I grave manures and water to the plant
A papaya plant in my compound
That gives a number of fruits
The cheaper ones, the perfect organic farming
Papaya, the friendly tree for us
With little care more fruits it returns
When the fruits are ripe in the tree
The quail and crows makes their own pleasure
Stealing the fruits and eating with happiness
The quail makes its own gestures by singing
I love you gentleman by giving us the food
The delicious, sweet treat in this tree
I will sing my own beautiful song
To make your child so happy in morning
And make all those waking nearby.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem