Time is a bird
Flying into
Wilderness
Of blurry past
Hinged on
a balance
Of light
And darkness.
Whispers
Of ancient
Wishes
Hanging on its
Short wings
Ponders
whether to rise
With the howling wind
Or break free
Like dusts of
Crumbling clouds
Riding
With the emissary
That lulls flower
Into bloom
And lure them to wilt.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem