Leaves blowing
in a wind
that has no origin
(and no destination) .
Shadows falling
on an ancient wall
(fall and fade) .
Still the children
watch the shadows fall.
And learn and learn
and learn
to name them all
(before they fade) .
Hands
reaching fingertips
towards a distant,
uncomprehending moon;
clutching in frustration
(shattering its reflection
in a puddle) .
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem