My Beautiful Blue Bird
Near my house, a bird
Rests on a twilight-painted tree.
On its branch, the lazy bird,
Caws and cries, or simply laughs.
Understanding is difficult, I admit,
To find my own place within.
But I hear all of this,
And it unsettles me so.
What am I, compared to the bird?
Where shall I seek its presence?
I hold myself in check,
Behind seven veils before my eyes.
If I happen to glimpse the tree's bird,
My heart's blue bird will vanish
In an instant!
I am an unfortunate soul,
Will I ever be able to catch
The bird's shedding sorrow?
If I lose myself within the sight,
The bird's shadow that holds
That is the true good river!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem