There is wisdom, though not obvious to show,
When God decides to leave things as they are,
Like say, when to just leave the grass to grow;
As grains are sown, wild weeds are farmers' woe,
Yet, till the harvest weeds are left so far,
That is wisdom, though not obvious to show;
In places, where there is no falling snow,
What hides the bodies, victims of the war?
Had it been well, they left the grass to grow?
Giraffes reach high, but what of beasts below?
But grasses grew for those under the bar,
That is wisdom, though not obvious to show;
So as we ready our tools to mow,
In parks or lawns, from near or from afar,
Might it be well to leave the grass to grow?
I lie on untouched field, where winds would blow,
To wish tonight upon a shooting star,
Or find wisdom, though not obvious to show,
Like say, when they just left the grass to grow.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem