ah the pursuit of butterflies,
maybe mostly trivial as we run
around chasing them with our nets,
a trivial pursuit you may say,
and yes you would be right,
but a pointless one 'never'! ,
to chase a thing of such elegance
and vibrancy, that gives such need
of a longing life.
Of course butterflies have no needed
consumption,
and bare no bread and only wine,
but what is life without the trivial,
what is life without the pursuit of
butterflies, their needless golden
beauty,
so pure,
so eternal,
so fine.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem