I don't know what is coming in the wind
Until it landed and dusted
Until it is beded and blossomed
Then I know it was a seed, a beautiful one.
I don't know what is coming in the wind
Until they landed and dusted
Until they are beded and blossomed
Then I know they were a million seeds, the beautiful ones.
I'd never know what is coming in the wind
until that time once in a year
I'd never know what is coming in the mind
until that time once in a life.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem