Dragon Gate.
Against the ferocity of the Yellow river,
fish leap.
With salmon strength and driving instinct.
They approach a barrier,
a rock of solidity-yet spiritual in its reward.
With beating fins and pounding tails
the fish hurl to land with scale-splitting force.
Some slide back to lie battered and spent
in the heaving pool, while others thrash
for their jumping point.
The few who land upon the ledge
flop exhausted.
They have no fear of death as they vie to
enter this portal.
For those who succeed, the dragon spell is woven.
They are transmuted.
Filled with new life and sheathed within dark coils,
they stretch their changeling wings and fly
into the unknown future.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem