Throughout the night
they have whispered and they
did creak and crackled
and howled but now
as grey lingers and
swoops in around tree
trunks creeping through droplets
hang fragile as the
webs they cling
upon. Crystal worlds
rise into mist, ripen
into day brushed
by wings and claws
and paws and
little legs that clamber
up blades of grass to warm their souls
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem