Mostly the pond there
of water's still strive and take
fills the view of good eyes
which see the garden too
but mostly the pond there
of liquid light on walls
of glaring eyes that burn
but not with his brother at night
which, cratered, burns cool
and breathly, as does the gale
who too shakes the garden
but mostly the pond there
of life and lost and leaves
and changing reflections
showing the good eye, and bad
which cares to look but not to notice
the whole of self staring back
and the life and lost and leaves
and some of the garden
but mostly the pond there
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem