Today was perfect blue on white
(clear sky against great snowy peaks) .
There are paths we could have taken.
But we had some things to do
(gardening and repairs and paperwork)
and so we missed the loveliness
this cold, bright day had offered,
as if we'd won a kind of lottery
but thrown the ticket in a bin
or been too lazy to collect the prize.
It seems we still have much to learn
about enjoying life,
and leaving work
in its rightful, humble place -
much lower down the order.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem