The morning dew arises,
and the sun pokes through
the trees while walking towards
that path. A beam of light shows
the way up above. Up it climbs
to the very top, it looks down to
smile upon the achievements it
has made.
Slowly it reaches for the cold
white gate. Swinging open it
walks toward that light. Warmth
covers it and it spins with excitement.
It falls back and smiles upon its
new home. Sadness no more,
even madness won't hurt it.
It is finally free.
(2001)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem