once you get
to writing poetry,
you become addicted
to the art,
you cannot stop
until you
pop out like
a bud into a
full blown flower
and you know
what is next,
the wilting and
falling but you know
what is next,
the hibernation
of the seed
the drying and
cracking
it is a cycle
but it is so beautiful!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem