The grass, its green flame; the flame's soaring!
Uplands nourish the family of culms that clamber
On damp river-sides. The grass unwinds its striving
Desires along the trails by rocks and thickets here;
Tufts of its freedom, wet as lips in rain,
Tangled in the losses of earth, arranged in the milder
Sun in wisps like hands all held together in unity.!
The grass, its comforting touch in April in Indian
Clime; the grass's marriage to soil in sunny
Estates! Divine and sodden grass by a woman
In her garden! Who hurled it down to earth as a gift?
O honeymoon between frost, and grass; it won't sustain
Much long! But grass is singing its happiness in a croft;
It's blessed and baptized on an April day; I wish
It all progress; let the grass make its fabric on earth!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem