I looked into the sky, and saw a feather drifting by
It swayed upon and warm and summer breeze
I reached out my right hand, as the feather came to land
And it tickled me to death, and made me wheeze
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I loved this poem, so read many of your recent posts, saved 'Streams of words' for repeated readings. Thank you for such a fine texture in weaving.