Every Spring
The melted snow
Leaves
The lower pasture
Of my uncle's farm
With a pool of water
In which
A pair of ducks
Cavort
Bent on procreating
Come July
The pool
Will be bone dry
And their tryst
Will be long over.
And yet the water, long evaporated, will bring new life elsewhere
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
It is happy time during spring that is aptly written. It is a nice poem with a smooth flow.