Sometimes one wonders if they are proud,
But no..! they are well poised in state,
Waving and dancing together in breeze-rhythm nod
In grace smiling on the green float, cognate ;
Surfacing water birds wade through with express beak
All around are slopes and mounds, hostile and coarse -
A solace -bowl of retreat and seclusion to seek
And commune with ease, the long restrained remorse,
The modest bashful lilies do make any such
Elated, downcast, vigorous or the feeble, indeed gain much.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem