I hear her voice flowing
Through the fresh leaves
And lets the flowers bloom
And bird to wake up from
Their deep slumber
In this old age I feel loved
I come out to take a stroll
Tread upon green grasses
Soaked in dew and dance
A thought passes my mind
If you enjoy beauty age is
Nothing but a number
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem