What inspires the wind to dance?
Pick up leaves and twirl-them-perchance
one might dizzily fall into my arms
light as a feather across wetly cut lawns.
What indeed twists and turns
and finds it self-sucked into open urns
and worms its way up to the summit.
And once again, one day reanimated?
Blooms like a flower rent to wilt
but when it dies, its scent is still succinct
ask not my heart it-is-too-wilful
ask not-the-wind it-knows too little.
Blooms like a flower rent to wilt
but when it dies, its scent is still succinct
ask not my heart it-is-too-wilful
ask not-the-wind it-knows too little.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem