Upon hearing what you heard
And relayed with such devotion,
The soul arises as a bird from a puddle,
Shaking off its present adsorptions,
Abandoning its own reflection,
Drawn toward an infinite horizon,
It's nudged along by wind-borne petals,
Entranced by a piercing blue
In a sheer, receptive sky.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem