Many days floated away, as the cherries
fell, and so the heart of the tree grew hollow,
and but for the sun and all the black robes
of the sky and the stars, were hurried past.
Being still in the present with eyes, hearing
words that loved the growth of living trees.
Hard and studied was the steed by the sun,
and being thus, it was as his mind the comet.
Harnessed and the seasons did not change faith,
even after the comet was left behind, falsely robed.
Being perceived as thus, and one astronomer and
his eyes burning flame, and many times were they
and then again, given over to the three false hopes.
While the eclipse fades and the comet circles back,
again the stars aliened north to recalculate three orbits.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem