Regret Poem by Ilman Yusupov

The wasp always flies around choosing only the ripest pear,
The grey-haired dandelion opens its arms to the piercing blast.
Yesterday's state of reality hasn’t yet gone very far from there,
And tomorrow’s troubles already jostle the present day’s fuss.

Boring and bothering, the frog gives a croak in the swamp
Looking for happiness lost in the rustling bushes of cane,
The instants, my lines, never written, depart, very prompt,
Leaving unspoken regret on the tip of my fountain pen...