Kubota, all in poetry.

Poème Kubota

Kubota, the Art of Carving the World

Upon the fields, where gentle zephyrs play,

There stirs a rumble at the break of day.

Lo! Kubota riseth, proud and true,

A builder’s blade in flaming orange hue.

A creature born of fire and iron’s might,

She bites the earth with dreams drawn bold and bright.

Compact she is, yet strong beyond compare,

Each stroke she makes, a waltz upon the air.

She singeth low, in diesel’s tempered tone,

Through mire and stone, she presseth on alone.

Be it garden green or mighty worksite wide,

She walks beside thee, ever as thy guide.

Her arm extends like giants of old tales,

Yet moveth with a grace that never fails.

’Neath iron tracks, the world itself is drawn,

As if by hand of god, at break of dawn.

O Kubota! Flame of the earthen crust,

Thou build’st our roads, our dreams, our schools in trust.

A silent force that grandest deeds doth birth,

With gentlest touch, thou reshapest the earth.

D.T