Daffodils dance upon the breeze
with such sweet scented ease,
as men walk past with minded cares
not seeing dancing everywhere.
They walk, but do not know how to dance
as the daffodils they bend and bow,
they dance to life with no furrowed brows
and need no one to tell them how.
Whilst daffodils, they have rooted stems
that stop them wandering from their beds
they do not walk, of course! They have no legs!
The men they have work to do
to rise and meet each day that dawns
and of course they have roots too
which keep them bound not to their beds
but to the minded cares they carry in their heads.
The daffodils, they see men walk
and most likely they must think (if daffodils could)
which they can't; I guess?
If we had legs instead of roots,
oh how we would dance upon the breeze
and go through life with such sweet scented ease!
Why give men a brain,
if they treat with such disdain
us daffodils that bend and bow
just to relieve them of their furrowed brows?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem