Still, mountains and fields there're red patches,
Because the cold is jealous the warm spring,
Plum blossoms, orchids, chrysanthemums, and bamboos
On the canvas, the friends're harmoniously dancing.
In the pine grove, birds are already making
A pair and teasing each other to sing.
Even in the chilly embrace of spring,
In the art-house, the flowers bloom and swing.
(Mar.4th,2024. Kinsley Lee)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem