I take pity on a viable plant
Wilting under the scorching sun.
I get anger towards a thorny plant
Flourishing in a fertile land.
I take pity on a mighty banyan
Uprooted from a wild storm.
I have contempt for a useless plant
Being enshrined as a holy one.
Natural selection is at work.
18.09.2005
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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