How did persimmons
get that reputation
for puckering your mouth?
When ripe,
they're sweet
as mangoes.
Should any of us
be judged
before we're ripe?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
To the point Max. It is always good to end on a question, especially one that raises other questions, such as when do we become 'ripe'?