Winter again.
Gray days.
The same gray
every day,
until
the canon said,
'Let there be red.'
'The grayest days, '
I heard him say,
'most need
scarlet
crimson
maroon
vermilion.'
'For one day at least, '
the canon said,
'let there be red,
let there be red, '
and it was so.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem