With each springs white top.
Shaken off by hands unseen.
Wanders by each lofty lonely face.
Places it is wind it needs to show.
I float across each leaf, it's breath.
Beside still waters shy and still.
Willows branch they hang in grace.
With a gentle sigh they hold out light,
and lay me gently down to grow.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem