A delicate, yellow butterfly
Lingered above the tall, green grass,
Gaily intercepted by a few bushes,
Having tiny, yellow and red flowers.
Invisible when it lighted on a butter-cup
Lost in the brightness of its golden hue,
Picturesque as it hovered above a red rose,
Then daintily settled on it
Its wings folded as a tiny hand in prayer'
Saturated, it fluttered its fragile wings
And rose slowly in the invisible air,
Sailing away to distinguishing bushes
Accepting the invitation of another flower.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem