The carnal dreams of daffodils,
Lacking tangible grasps,
Cast pollen off over the hills,
To make the loving synapse.
Scented dirt is intoxicating.
Leading the body’s mind to wander,
Fruitful landscapes fornicating.
Incomprehensible bonding with others.
We fling our fruits whimsically,
And only wish to find our other.
It’s just a plague of society
To perfect ourselves with romantic blunder.
The Dandy Elephant in sunflower
Fields forever off to ponder.
How many sunflower seeds will flower,
And so where truly lies the power,
In the sun, the soil, or will of the flower.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem