i am up again;
the morning dew wets my feet,
sticking cold pollen on my skin.
i give no care for i am sunking-deep
into the garden soil.
tho soil is cold;
and the weeds are dripping wet.
my limbs limbs are now icy and tough.
i care to be bare-feet-frozen and wet;
but for a plate on my table i won’t rest.