Walking along, enjoying peace of natural sights, blossoms
standing daintily in the sun, shyly beckoning our vision
as we walk by them.
Beautifully attired in heavenly garments, looking like
flowering angels here on earth, their memories contributing
to the imagery being place in poetry.
As it's written quietly in the afternoon, separating and
assorting beauty of nature, combining rainbows of color to
rhythms of sound.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem