Butterfly sound of body and mind
marked wings informal winter sleep.
Spring is no longer dead she shouts
with anger crashing colors of refrain.
Stained by the rain shameful innocent
love born to thunder's crashing flame.
Social agony to be unloved through
the wind cold weather anger's got a
hold of stain brushed with colors
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem