On my way from the market
I met little old Ben
He had a hat full of mushroom
A full big woolen hat
He asked me for some tomatoes
I gave him one and an onion
He smiled and licked his mouth
Went on home whistling and smiling
I felt good as if something happened
Something bigger than what happened
How could it be just a smile
That changed my mood and get me going
Poor old Ben, with a hat full of mushroom.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem