Happy fields
Happy faces
In the season
Of harvesting
When the crop
Is taller than you
And you can hide
Inside its density
No melancholy
Can sneak in
Amid the hands working
Fiercely
Gathering and making
Bundles of their toil
And storing good luck
In their barns.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
When the crop Is taller than you and you can hide Inside its density No melancholy can sneak in....beautiful expression. My pleasure revisiting this magnificent poem!