That it starts with a certain slow breath heaviness
like that of new grass
grass that is green I can grow up right through.
Out where on the far edge
I've looked down into the dark moist humid deep woods.
Walking around on and across a wide field
filled with the occasional bush and sleeping
with a red tipped daffodil.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
That it starts with a certain slow breath heaviness like that of new grass....wow..really very amazing composition shared on. Wisely penned poem.10