Sleep trees, sleep bushes, sleep a restful sleep
And wait for spring, or sleep for evermore
For who’s to know if summer will return.
River sleep a swollen winter sleep.
Let deepest currents form a dreaming flow
Of thoughts that knew a simple summer joy.
Just give those memories a taste, then with
Those leaves you carry on your back,
Release them in the ever wakeful sea,
Or drown with them and never wake again.
For who’s to know if summer will return.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem