Blossoms thick as wool
hide delicate buds
from the icy teeth
of spring wind,
trumpet the birth
of a new season,
not with glorious shouts
but in whispers
of white against
the blue enamel
of skies laced
with sun-worn clouds,
tattered reminders
of winter's bluster
at the inevitable pace
of revival.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Play the song dear birds, breathing the blue air and white cotton wool in the sky... A lovely siblings of warmer summer, icy winter, sister of autumn color We marked our presence when we wake up, on the land None is together when one is there But as you here for my April Here Bradford pears is our gift to you Lovely write sir! _Soul