The burning grass in the grass field.
Our gazing grass in a great glassy green grass region,
Even as our grass, grass pass your stingy green grass,
In this haven of a many glassy green grass, growing.
Grassy glassy gorgy, she is green so a many greenly,
In the desert of this no green of a grass.
Glassy! Glassy! Her green gown is great.
In this glazing mountain of the green glassy grass,
Green, her glassy groin is great,
Got to her greasy Goin! Goin! Goin! In this glassy grass,
I am the king of her green glassy graze.
Even in the midst of her non-glassy green gown,
She still is the green glassy grass.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem