clouds blue, wings are happy
gliding to tune of mighty wind
searching for a beak to pick
could it be from treetops, sky
or simply crawling on ground
some prefer water creatures
my eye level budding branches
yellow flowers bloom, bees
young leaves on tiny twigs
giving life to once nakedness
adding sweetness, freshness
to morning breeze i breathe
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem