A farmer and his mule are kicking
up dust on their way to Messines.
The mule has very long ears and
the farmer wears a big, black hat.
Side by side they walk the yonder
yet, they have time to get there.
The road is asphalted now, and
dust settles on the grassy verge.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem