I sit atop the hill;
watch time standing still,
jade leaves drift by
Lemon green light,
brilliant dark,
malachite butterflies
Flat grass blending with
black raspberry lake,
suspended
Pretty turquoise clouds;
I sit on the crest of a current
amidst a loving triangle
Of sky, water and land;
heavens, earth
and spirit grand
Listening to the subtle
ping, ping percussion
of angels and birds.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
lulling but moreso nauseating.