The birds' cracked voices spring
from the white pimpled Dogwood trees,
that shake off winter's bygone youth
to uncover unsure crocus buds.
At night the soft magenta of magnolias
tangle with the cherries' wind blown blooms -
even the bloated worms escape the earth to watch
the teasing trees teach loves' muted dance.
With white knuckles the sky rings the clouds
to cool the torrid burst of life;
only to leave dew like lace
draped over spring.
All the while, the stooped oaks pray
to slow
the drum
of fresh advance
of flowers' dreams of verdant leaves
that know not yet of petals browned.
Fantastic imagery and inferences from a wonderful composition of words, thank you (petals or pedals?) .
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Thank you Kayoko Kan for the heads up on changing pedals to *petals - and also for your kind words.