the budding of the raintree
marks another year
and I hear children playing
without conceit or fear
raintrees only bloom in fall
then the cold winds blow
innocence and blossoms fade
like love from long ago
seasons pass as children grow
soon there comes a change
that nothing in the will of man
can alter or arrange
raintree blooms can never last
but move aside for spring
to never know the afterglow
that spring and children bring
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem