A little bird flying down from the sky, gliding lightly
over the grass, hundreds of leaves lying on the ground,
brown and crackling dry.
This little bird comes down softly for a landing, standing
still, blending in with the leaves for a few seconds as it
alights.
Landing perfectly still, then moving a fraction of an inch
it comes into full view again.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem