First the sowing of seedlings with dribbling ways:
A criterion of the grass is that it slithers,
Sloth has burdened the brotherly bells,
And belts of flames are enlightening,
Grass has attached to the lawn-strength.
One farmer is attached to the sowing of seeds,
Ploughing his fields with linear fashion
So as to better the other agriculturist like haystacks,
Feeding the straws abundantly to sow the seeds,
A seed sown is a swan-like foe, burgeoning to be blessed.
Opening the fields we see the blessing attached to divinity,
It is divine, it is divine, it is divine to be the holy farmer.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem