I am a willow
Times, and times again
In plains and deserts
Stood by water wells
There I wished
Just to be a pebble.
But I am a willow.
In breeze of news of lagoons
In around summer-camps
I am combed like the sands
And removed like the hay.
A pebble goes settles at bottom
Straight; when dropped
Right through, to the end.
But blind…
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem