The fallen tree lay across the lake
Moss covered wood, swollen decay,
Branches drowned lay half submerged
At years end that the swan died.
Glassy waters with a hidden secret
Passing through the time of day
Thus the immortality of time
Tis only this that does not cry.
Fish weave between the branches
Unable and uncaring to understand
Each precious moment that passes;
Their only clock is the light and dark
As they till the murky waters deep
And plough furrows as they swim
And reap a harvest in the mud
As they swim around thatfateful swan
That time allowed to die.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem