Perturbed for awhile, and then there’s peace:
The wise men follow the stars out into the East,
And even the illusions bend and
Pray:
Bend and pray like praying mantises over their
Lunches of today and yesterday:
While the mountains rise up, and clean the clocks of
The clouds,
And the mountain lions upon them grin so
Blue, so blue and proud:
In that metamorphosis, and in its spring, traveling up
The weathers
To the hidden spring- where the animals diadem
And are glad,
Lustily gamboling and sweetly unperturbed by the words
They never had.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem