Under the tree, we chatted about our dreams
You said you would write biographies for the mountains, and chronicles for the water
For me, I just wished to shoot a portrait album of the clouds
Paint a landscape picture outside the window
(sprinkled with a couple of birds singing)
And a sketch of my little girl at home
Needless to say- - -
she has to stand in the garden under the papaya tree
——translated by Shelley Kristina
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem