beyond words
this astonishes me:
despite the drought
when all the grasses turn brown
when the road gets too dusty
with just a bike moving
passing through
a path where feet are tired
there is this wild resistant
flower blooming amidst
the ruins of the season
a white butterfly hovers on
no one notices it
except myself
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem