As I stand out here in the cornfield,
I use my scythe to cut down what's before me,
And I work hard to collect the harvest that
My family has invested so much time in
Over the past year.
The corn is to be collected, to be sold,
And eaten as our food source,
And to be given to animals as food, also.
This farm is the way we make our profit,
So we must work hard to make sure that it
Stays in good health above all.
So, we work hard to feed the people who will eat it,
To feed ourselves and our livestock.
We need it to get by, so we will continue to work
Hard, no matter the cost it may have.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem