Light rising,
Smoking air,
Green leaf patterning,
Ceiling like a puzzle.
Stretching trunks,
Clothed in huge
Skirts of rhodadendron.
Rushing creek at their feet.
Foaming flowers,
Mossy rocks,
Stillness all around.
Life so quietly
Moving, growing,
Changing, yet
Not a movement
To behold,
Except the rushing
Flow of cold creek
Water and the
Light rising.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem