Off it goes
Joyfully, singing, finding its desire, it settles
Keenly, kissing the gentle petals
But when the boreals blow
and no softly gleaming petals glow
Then away on a warmer breeze
This love goes on fickle wings
Looking for blooms on hills and lees
On its course its hands it rings
Seeking sadly what was lost
At first no, but then, counting the cost
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem