Atreya crowed, he could write cinquain
“It isn’t rocket science; not arcane.”
But he remained a duck.
“I don’t e’er sing, ” he’d cluck,
“Cane I love. So I’d grow sugarcane.”
[Sept 30,2009: : Greenfield, WI]
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem