The dew knows
That for a short moment
The sun comes
And they shall be wiped
Out
These pearls of the morning
Somehow glitter
And make my sad self
Sing a song
To the coldness of this
Early season
They know soon
They will be gone
But happy to note
That tomorrow soon too
They will be back
To cheer another sad heart
Lost in this
Wanton garden of grass
And pebbles
These pearls of the early morning
In a short moment
Yet so intense
In the cold their confidence linger
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem