In the dawn, trees stood concealed amidst the billowed mist,
As morning came, flowers rolled and fell as the wind's tryst.
It stacked like snow on handrail and garden in whity and whity
Unprepared for meeting spring, they take away, swiftly.
(Apr.3rd,2024. Kinsley Lee)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem