Open waters beckon,
Clear waterfalls
From distant mountains
Swirling and churning
Like naughty children,
Reach the flat plains
At a mature age
Calm, deep, wise.
All roads lead to them,
A beaker of that water
Can cleanse the soul,
Before it meets the sea
And transfers sublimity.
***
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem