A little nothing
planted between
lavender and bees,
where something blossom
in the midst of falling leafs.
Slowly the wind crept closer;
away the butterfly flutters.
High smiling sun-rays bright;
below everything adorned,
in arrays gold and white.
Inaudibly a dew drop
glistens, its love unto
ever growing lavender.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem