It is the smallest tears that matter the most
The miniature hands, eyes, and smiles that host,
the incoming and outgoing of life alone the shore
The tiniest rain that make the season as tender and more
But inasmuch these things are tender to know
I say simply little things, are unique to show
That life worth simple, it isn’t, but gold to sow
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem