I returned them to their mothers.

I returned them to their mothers.

On the way of my school
there was a marshy land.
When I returned from there,
I observed jelly dirts on the isolated pond.

On the banks of the wet land,
the hedges grew up.
On the surface of water,
water weeds pooped up.

When I collected those jelly clots,
in a oblong bottle with sticks.
I felt frogs were croaking desperately,
swallowing their necks.

Then I kept that bottle,
on my reading desk.
and watched daily with curious eyes,
from morning to dusk.

When those frogspawn
turned into shapes,
I made them free in that wet land,
to return to their mothers.