Weeds interest me.
Their beauty is almost ignored.
When stopping to look at them
Strangers will shout out.
It's just a weed.
But isn't that true of us all?
A weed is only a flower-
In the wrong place, they say.
Well, isn't that how we all feel?
There is a weakness in a flower-
In the right place. Oh, to be
A weed in the wrong place
Mustn't it be heaven on earth?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem