Walking tendered legs on carried,
eggs shells delicate as air,
where buildings tower popular-
standing sturdy in the air.
Walking tender, slow and carry on,
though eggs hatching barley care,
where birds are bee's and stinging tails,
are drenched above your defeat.
And in this that so place of bravery,
a sunset heights the air,
and buzzing planting, faithful seeds,
are birds refusing to care.
In new song hatching from the birds so great,
turn bitter, new song turn to old,
it's up to the walker if,
if the birds chirp or hatch at all.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem