With just a handful of barren land,
And tottering dreams based on the sand.
Yet the desire continued to bloom,
To produce the green out of the doom.
No frill now, can satiate his needs.
A tinge of grass is for all he pleads.
Extracting life out of nature's legacy
So small is that farmer's fantasy......
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem