anytime I look at the sky
I remember the talks
like the clouds that drift slowly away
what were they before they died
anytime I see leaves gone from trees
I remember the walk through the fields
like the stand of flowers in our hands
what were they before they died in our hands
I will take a long time to know
how long the lotus in the lake
catches the eye before it dies
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem