Spring is the dawn of another myth;
Gods hang among the boughs beside the flowers,
And fairies sing along with birds within the petals,
of Japanese apricot trees here and there,
At the side of rivers and hills,
Night and day,
In the morn and the eve;
They wept their myths,
At which no birds or insects
Pecked nor sucked.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem