T'was morning near the dawn breaks
as my lazy feet stabbed the clay woods;
While crickets rested their chanting,
the hoppers glowed a windful trick;
And the hallowed wind swallowed
the taps and borne the giggle;
The stead from afar whistled a time,
and my ears began to grow bare
And the ground trembles like a switch;
like a dream it fizzled a twitch -
grinding and searching the line,
and the form culled a trimmed hair;
Awhile gravitated the pull from a top:
There! A new ground discovered from afar
and t'is beauty will never fade forever,
why would nature cut it through?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem