it is an observation that after the rain
the stones on the pavement glisten
to the envy of the dews
but the leaves where the dews sit and dry
themselves to death
when they finally vanish into the rays of the sun
understand
what all these temporaries are
at the peaks of glory time is always too short
passing like no one
like nothing is
there
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem