The Moon's made of diamonds, the Sun's made of gold;
their light passes through the ancient prism of God...
The colours' array swirls, magic unfolds;
butterflies great days with a peaceful nod...
They carry blissful dreams on their iridescent wings.
It's a tiny gift for their wonderful queen.
She wears dress made of pearls; she's their mother, the spring.
They ornate her hat with pastel shades of green...
I am awestricken when I look at the scene,
so I stop and bow to the lady and her host.
Elegance and wisdom paint her face serene.
Spring's the queen, the season everyone loves most...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem