Born monkey, mischief is born
Neither branch nor leaf is left alone
to peacefully sway with the rhythm of wind
Neither the farm nor the farmer is left alone
to peacefully stay poach free
Born monkey, all limbs
are made grossly itchy for grab
and all eyes grossly on gardeners grapes
You must be kidding, brother!
Nobody ever beats him to it
for before you put a monkey in to sight,
the mischievous free goat must have forestalled you.
Born monkey, born mischief seeker of the world.
Born of a feather, only their breed come to roost.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Born monkey! ! ! But the donkey is still alive. Thanks for sharing this poem with us.