Quietly I hid the jar
Underneath some cool circulating air
Secretly, at a low shelf, no body notice
Seriously, please do not disturb
The black beans I'll check frequently
Nobody notice
Except me
Nobody should know where
Except me
It is sitting
My secret jar of beans is fermenting
A full year of supply
Happy and contending
Looking forward
To the ancient spice
I need not to worry
About 'dou ghi'(fermented black beans)
Please Do not disturb
The beans of good health
Pray it'll turn out well
Quietly, humbly.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I like poems about food. If these beans are for eating. Private, defensive, and universal sensibility of ownership and protection and polite control of one's own expressed. Great!