I was walking on snow
looking for a space
which doesn't have
then I see receding
like giant hand trying
to wipe-off it clean
it's sunshine doing
it appears grass
is growing taller
ground rising above
melting piles, flow
bit by bit coloring
every corner, amazing
morphing to fantastic
piece of fabric so pretty
I sit that I act as bud
in midst of a big flower
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem