A poem about sweet potatoes: Sweet Potato Story
Has its own temperament humble and rustic
It wears red
Approaching the land and rain Arrive at the center of the vocabulary "agriculture"
Be grateful for love or abandon and complain
Sweet potatoes flow underground in spoken and dialected languages
The message of the sea permeates the thin roots
Become the capillaries of the earth
Touch with your own gestures
Expressing another world of the unknown
Every year the autumn frost comes and the dust settles
Sweet potatoes face after calm
I saw it in my father's carriage as a child
Reflecting the dry frost, frozen red or shy
One by one, the sweet potatoes walked off the carriage in disorder
Crowding the empty yard of my house
A few sweet potatoes didn't keep up and fell behind on the road
Like those children in the countryside of the North Central Plains who dropped out of school early
