A balloon slowly descended toward the ground.
Before touching down, its string tangled around.
On a low tree branch… it could no longer float.
Attached to the balloon was a neatly written note.
A farmer lady walked steadily toward the location.
Her path followed a routine of daily exploration.
Today, the stroll would become uniquely changed.
A withering balloon beckoned and rearranged.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem