The snail… ever so slowly… creeps… its way on its path, undeterred.
Carrying its weight… stained by the colors of the flowers, stirred.
It lives… for the future, slithering and sliding,
Over obstacles… dirt and matter… leaves and stone, gliding.
Along the path… its soft body, ripples.
Moving forward… among the feet, the people.
The flowers that shift and move about,
Brilliant colors that shout!
To be enjoyed at the moment, fresh, crisp, full of life,
Fullness and voluminous, none of strife.
Flowers unfurled…but fade away,
Almost blending at the end of the day.
Withers with the heat…like the people today.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem