When a person encroach my territory,
With his mighty and lean muscular tributaries,
I have never realized there are so many others,
Looking for me from the distance with eager eyes,
They are visible to me at night, when he is out,
To the other half in the west, I never felt the cold,
When chatting with the distant visitors with the wand,
Greens are at rest and the blues are up and its best,
Singing the song during the pleasant fireworks,
They hid themselves from the sight, when he arrives,
For the new date, many flowers get shrunk,
A few flowers bloom, my distant visitors not visible.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
They hid themselves from the sight, when he arrives There are many onlookers hidden from sight. Nice observation of reality.