The strait gate is hidden
as brambles 'round thrive
but when it is found
there's no need to strive
the passage gets wider
as ages roll on
the view from the mountain
so lovely at dawn
years do not weigh heavy
on my frail back
as long as I walk on the
narrower track
the winds of the spirit
will move me along
as music of flowers
and clouds hum their song.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem