how fair
is the fairy
flying from blossom
to blossom
how unfair
the storm wind
blowing the blooms away
the rains
washing off
all pixie
dust
oh, my child,
little darling of mine
You need not fear the storm
be not afraid of the rain
you may keep your fairies
anyway
you can hold them close
in your heart
and fly with their wings
every day
till very old
and very gray
With the fairies
you fly away
and from this world
of illusion of pain
depart
until then,
my love,
you keep your fairies
alive
in your heart
and all
will
be well
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem