They grow so fast
And they grew so beautiful
In the powdery crowns, they put their stout feet
On the soft ground
And you will never know what stuff
they are made up of.
When young and tender
They wear a crown of unrustled dry leaves
And of all these black, gray, white and yellow beauty
Their powder is poison!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem