The birds' cracked voices spring
from the white pimpled Dogwood trees,
that shake off winter's bygone youth
to uncover unsure crocus buds.
At night the soft magenta of magnolias
tangle with the cherries' wind blown blooms -
even the bloated worms escape the earth to watch
the teasing trees teach loves' muted dance.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem