Let me begin
to become
perfect-petaled
spring being
caterpillar sure of destination.
Let me be
stirred sudden
as Spring storm
spurred with no stimulant
aside its own power.
Let me shed
with shiver snake-like
the long skin of Winter
the hoared scale.
Let me burst
into bloom
brilliant-eyed
azalea bright
changing with the season.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem