A wooden boat upon a sea of sand
stands beached, unfathomed by the fiercest storm,
beside toy train, beneath free bees that swarm
furled flaglike round a Cherry close at hand
whose branches full two hundred years have fanned, -
whose perfumed petals in pink uniform
pattern footpaths' picture-puzzle form.
Upon the play boat, children, hand in hand
heedless of Time's march, unruly play,
re-enacting pirate roles. Life's farce
around them all ignore, nor cares display,
impervious to ciphered hour-glass.
Beside park playground blinkered adults pass,
obey the sign: - "No walking on the grass! "
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem