Green tender plants coming out of the soft earth
Swinging in the gentle air
Look at the hard human world
Tremble fearing of human’s temper
Thinking sadly if they soon burn them
Or throw poisonous bombs onto them;
I am not sure whether
I’ll ask them something seriously
Or leave them in the free weather
Looking at them I was thinking at an early day,
The foods of millions of herbivorous
Are these tender, soft grasses.

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