All morning
she collects
stones
pebbles
& mounts them
(stone upon stone)
in precise
little mountains
perfect pyramids
of pebbles.
Then, one: by: one:
She ker-plonks ‘em
into the unsmiling pond.
“What are you doing? ”
(I ask what she is doing) .
“I’m making
the water smile! ”
The pond chuckles
as another ker-plonk
tickles
tickles
it
forcing the ripple
of a smile.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This one, I adore...your personification of the pond, and how it 'smiles' is just perfect. The ripples in the stream idea is rather overused, and this image is so fresh and new! !