Spring showed up in the middle of winter;
The oak standing in a field of dandelions cried.
Movement of time broke away from full season
As earth bled a cold, tricked by hope of the sun.
Spring showed up in the middle of winter;
The oak sought leaves and new branches
Stretched long into the passing day.
But the earth bled a cold, no help from the sun.
Spring showed up in the middle of winter;
The oak breathed great breaths of clean
But choked on the draw, his lungs not ready-
For the earth bled a cold- Wretched Sun!
Spring showed up in the middle of winter;
The oak that stood in the field of dandelions left.
Movement of time broke his grandeur
Because the earth bled a cold—still a winter’s sun.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A great poem, like it.