Open the chest of drawers I call the heart,
Inside is more furniture that I lay on,
Further up the wall is a red spot or two,
Me and my family and what else?
Outside there is a monster called the garden,
It’s a lawn, a tongue for languages and hurt,
The communication seems vital for the plants to grow,
Ovens in the kitchen are us, we grow food.
My family stay at home, victory is assured and some,
Inside is the heart and my mirror is my family
For they have lunch, dinner and breakfast
In the day and night, with heart and pain, all day.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem