あるがまま雑草として芽をふくjust as I am as a weed I put out buds

雑草は誰に頼まれるでもなく、あるがままに芽を吹く。名もない草に自分を重ねながら、卑下でも開き直りでもなく、ただそういうものとして生きればよいと言っている。春の朝、土の匂いが立ちのぼってくるような一句。The weed, asked by no one, puts out its buds just as it is. Laying himself over the nameless grass, neither in self-abasement nor defiance, he says only that one should live simply as such a thing. A poem on a spring morning, as if the smell of the soil were rising up.