Wrapped
In
Silk-moss
Caftan
Inchworm
Hangs
By thread
In the thin
Mist
Of the
Eastern sun
Tricked by the light
And the
Jester-wasp
Fat for the
Waking birds
Quietly chirping
Of the dew dipped day to
Come
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem