A flower that is growing wild,
Must look and smell in such a way
That bugs like bees will be beguiled
To make a visit, and to stay
Long enough at the nectar bar
To get a bunch of pollen stuck
On the bug's body to fly far
To more wild flowers, and by luck,
To let Mom Nature do her thing,
Using the bugs as go between,
So baby wild flowers may spring,
Bringing beauty to all the scene.
To be or not to be is fate
Of getting bugs to pollinate.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem