In my childhood days I picked lilies in the marsh
where the highway now runs almost into eternity
while only cars do pass on the road.
Laid dry, barren and destroyed is the marsh land that I did love
and selfish gain circles out wider while nature is distorted
where the highway now runs almost into eternity
and the plain is full of offices and factories that pushed it aside
and I search for something that can keep the untouchedness
and selfish gain circles out wider while nature is distorted,
there is smoke that like a blanket folds from above over everything
while on the sidewalk there is a marigold
and I search for something that can keep the untouchedness
and notices a flower that grows wild right through the concrete,
and I see no coots or plovers calling
while on the sidewalk there is a marigold
amongst the crowding of people of the one or other group.
In my childhood days I picked lilies in the marsh
and I see no coots or plovers calling
while only cars do pass on the road.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem