Weeds interest me
their beauty is almost-ignored
when stopping to look at them
strangers will shout-out
it's just a weed.
But isn't that true of us all
a weed is only a flower-
in the wrong place, they say.
Well-isn't-that how we all feel?
There is a weakness in a flower
in the right place. Oh, to be
a weed in the wrong place
mustn't-it-be heaven on earth?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem