There are thoughts that comes from within soul's pine
And there are thoughts in a flower buds curled
Thoughts are carried in the air like the scent of the fern
Some as new and others as old as the world.
The old and the new intertwines
like the young and the old changing minds
stunted growth or expands countless times
It's all there, we just have to pick the signs.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem