thoughts of crowing joy
in body the soul,
but wait there's more...
pasting of measure, feet taping,
but yet sapping, on the
there of sapping, hungry of just not knowing
that is the word of being humble...
the mystery of blending the
squrriel nut tree at the
top of the fountain as
thought it may seem,
of resureing
that living has fall within
my thought to know to be humble...
words to be humble
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A precise presentation of a powerful theme. Thanks for sharing my friend.