To God does do
Whatever you want
Belong
And i thought it good
To call the shots
For once
And in a short time
About the span of
A growing grass blade
A strange cricket came
To me to say
You have meat
But desire hey
Catch me quick
And thy petition
Shall be made
How glorious the moment
i caught that bug
But opened my hands
To find them stung
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem