Holding a pile of sand in thy hands,
thou watch'st with awe-
a pile of sand; a myriad of grains,
then collected; now dissipated.
Through the gaps of thy fingers
where the flesh failed to cover,
the sand oozeth and seepeth
down to the beach,
forever remote from thy reach.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem