Do you see poetry in flowing dress?
As silk cloth dances to the wind's old tune.
Fleece spun from gold twists and turns with finesse
It captures the sun yet calls for the moon.
Do you see poetry in empty chairs?
Side by side, filled with pride and left alone.
They keep watch of the world, fix disrepair,
For the song of the wind has been outgrown
Do you see poetry in broken glass?
As fractured forms try to find their new whole,
Some would try dancing, no longer en masse
They find life in both chaos and control.
They won't see poetry in things like these,
Until you recite empty melodies.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem