Oh, learn from the trees,
that through cold days' rush
endure, from hope to hope,
and embrace
evening's blush.
See how the faithful jay
flits from branch to
barren branch,
and sings of
summer's lost day.
For all trees believe
in summer's heat,
though icy winds may strip
their tender leaves.
They know that change
is always the same,
until
some long winter hence
they'll fall, by vicious storm slain,
and grateful life will
quietly end.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem