Between the cress crossing saplings wild goose peeps
For the depth of the fishes and insects
That played at yonder distance in the last night,
Little feathers queen having miraculous flesh within
Will continue to partly deny the day with face saving,
Certainly will sweep under the leaves and branches
By smelling the nexuses in and around if any.
May the pulse setting corroborate the melting day
To tweak the fatigue of concious summer at length
Driving the conviction thrust to fly away.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem