In the season of drought and famine,
You sprout like a cedar tree
In the time of dryness and impossibility,
hope kept calling
In season of plenty,
you overflow with abundance
called from the ground,
walked through dryness,
stucked in the desert of doubt,
strong in the wind,
sweet in all seasons
are faith like potatoes
Strong and real are faith like potatoes
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
hope! An invisible haven for the haunted souls. What a strong faith. Good work, a kind of analogy.