Let the Rice Rot in the Fields

I will let the rice rot in the fields said the farmer.

There is no one left to sell it to.

Even the birds do not come to eat the poisoned words.

I will lay myself down and go to sleep.

The carrots are rotting in the field cried the farmer through his tears.

The workers have fled.

I can't pick this field by myself.

I will lay myself down and go to sleep.

In Russia, the man who could shovel 500 horse stalls

in one night to gain the hand of the princess laughed.

The secret lies in helping an old woman on the side of the road

or finding the tail feather of the firebird.

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A strange poem, I admit. But the first two stories are true. US farmers are suffering. The carrot farmer said he would lose $900,000 US dollars if he couldn't get his crop in that week. He took out a loan to plant them.