grasshopper disgruntled hopping past
in spring summer hopped in grass
played merrily in tall sweet juicy grass
while ants toiled busy worked
now ants are labour happy eating
grasshopper is grim faced angry
why is world so indifferent to my winter pain?
cannot ants see my unhappiness wet sorrow?
is it my fault I have no stores for cold tomorrow?
Copyright © Terence George Craddock
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem