the sunflowers rehearse their growth
in my lawn, the intermittent tenant
to the grass; loathe the West,
all curve their snooty heads.
the grass frown to such etiquette
for there isn't a wild growth
as humble as it, who crawls where
shoes and hoofs descend.
the sunflowers wonder why not
the grass burst as thick, as tall
as shrubs, to work on a little
bossing instead of brooding.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem