In spring day, the park where cherry blossoms have fallen, the bona fide,
The grass is greener, clear sky's looked as jade green, and white clouds slide.
The gentle breeze sways the leaves, and makes birds sing which perched on boughs.
On a warm-day seat, I'm listening to the melodies crafted by spring hills and cloughs.
(Mar.,2024. Kinsley Lee)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem