Poor but rich in flowers
I lay amongst those stems.
In the burning gems
I hear my singing child.
Singing to the croaking frogs
Sweet words
Of jangled thought!
And the time I have to laze
And read a poem,
That leaves me dazed.
In humble awe!
I'm poor, but rich in flowers…
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem