Nature, either in her dress
Or her deportment
A smidge untidy
But never ugly!
Meanwhile I, further, deeper
Gather up the proofs...
By hand and foot, dropping, dropped
For leaf, clasped and kicked!
Crooked, wayward, in
Years, what's advancing
For her own, through branch and root.
Some grand dame but spoofs!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem