a little more haste, neighbor,
as we pick edible plants
on these slopes of the mountains;
the air is fresh and the delicate plants
abundant enough
though one has to humble oneself
by leaning down to these rare ones;
we will bring them home
and some we can eat fresh and raw
and most we can stir in our pots
and serve it as a treat with rice and garlic –
but my dearest friend,
what are you doing?
You are looking up at the sky
instead of keeping your eyes
down to the ground….

Ah, I just happened to look up
and I saw the bird fly;
I wondered what freedom that bird has in the air
unlike us who have to keep our heads down
and the strain pulls and tortures the back

Ah, ha…dear friend, you’ve
always been the dreamer;
keep your eyes on the ground
and get what you can
before sunset
for we must hurry;
as you know
bodies must eat;
and you still have to reach
out and bend your back,
I’m afraid;
for the plants that nurture blood, bones and muscle
they take us from one day to the next

Poetry In English
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