Flower in the pond
In an urn full of wine
There are drops; one can't count.
Like the leaves on the trees
(Dead; fallen)
Or the fish in the sea
(Colorful and all kinds)
And air cells all around
(Filling our atmosphere)
And the ants and the bees
(That isn't in man's palm)
Spiders' at the shore, in the caves
(Setting net)
Same is true for mankind
Each is a drop
Each is cell
Each is leaf before fall; after fall
Each is net
Spiders set a net at the gate
I am caught with wide eyes
In the net I question:
"What am I? "
"Where am I? "
‘Shaoping' is a word.
‘Flower in the pond'
In honey; looks like wax.
Her voice came sharp and nice
(Sharp at nine)
A prey in the net; I am caught.
See efforts to calm me.
Intention must be kind.
Save the life; suck the blood.
Is it time; or too late?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem