Days of spring gone so fast.
As i tread the paths with haste.
Trying to look back and make these moments last.
Stumbling in my steps.
All for just a taste.
Leaves whither as the stems begin to freeze.
Flying through the fields all for one last breeze.
Strolling by the river bed, for reflections of your face.
Nothing but ripples and waves as i search.
All for just a taste.
Through life of searching
And life gone to waste.
Just to discover this time on Earth.
Is all just a taste.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem