A weed is a plant where it shouldn't be
It's in the wrong place and not nice to see.
Growing in the ground it's hard to know
Which of them are the plants you did not sow.
Let's leave it alone until it flowers
It will reveal itself in its last hours
Then God's angels will separate the two
I'm glad we are flowers - both me and you
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem