Why do I feel the way I do
Is wondering, something miraculous
Is it the fruit of the vine
or a thorn of a rose
Four seasons happen in my heart
the cold of a winter
the growth and blossoming of spring
the heat of the summer and its gentle breeze
the change of colors of the fall
The heart feels all.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem