When the peach blossoms bloom in full,
Their branches redly dye,
Bright and clear spring, floating and flowing
Clouds scatter high in the sky,
Tiny birds, from whence he came,
But cry to urge the fruits,
But foolishly, he do not know that it needs time
For passing to mature the fruits.
(Apr.23rd,2024, Kinsley Lee)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem