A catterpilar
Never knows, it's unaware
Of its true nature
It is born to fly, not crawl
To dance and play in the wind
It is unknowing
Of how beautiful it is
To spread its soft wings
Until it turns to something
Different from its usual self
It does not know flight
Until it mature and grow
To a beautiful
Creature with colorful wings
That become the butterfly
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Nudershada, such a lovely write...10++++++++++++