snow seen in the valleys
off the highway
down below, the road I traveled
by the brooks, cling to the grasses,
pillows on rocks
slabs of snow on the brook
ready to fall in,
mingle with the running water
head downstream
to the sea, long downstream
white still, remaining
long after the graying
of closer snow
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A great poem and likes it.