I
Wait and catch a rhythm,
Catch it as it falls
Slowly like a flake of snow
In a swirling wind:
Like a man who has no weight
Because he has no will.
When you catch a rhythm
Like a flake of snow,
It leaves a tear upon the palm
A dying tear it leaves,
Like a man who has no face
Because he has no will.
II
Snow has defined in black
The bare-branched tree -
Sparse ink on silken scroll -
The eye is tutored to exclude,
But not the brooding heart:
There's too much snow for art.
- - -
I read this poem 'A Snowfall in Peking'. It is nice and interesting.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
really beauty in style and poetic in smell t leaves a tear upon the palm A dying tear it leaves, Like a man who has no face love to read it