In the end, I'm a minor beginning
Of a love for small empires.
Tiny kingdoms who don't
Outwear their welcome.
Short reigns, minor abuses,
Powers and scandals that
Don't tip the earth off her axis.
The kind only daffodils
And mayflies seem to master
Before becoming one again
With wet stone, hoary space
That a single atom (with some luck)
Can convert into an entire new galaxy
Who won't remember us, like a callow child
Playing in the bluegrass before the rain.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem