i walk through the flowers
they tickle my legs
the summer breaze blowing
my sunny gold hair
the air tasts so sweet
after a morning dew frost
the sun rises slowly
the image makes me lost
the chill of the early
the sun not fully risen yet
makes each moment pressious
like you never want it to end
the last day of summer
the first day of fall
the morning of winter
then spring
to conclude it all
like a circle we go around and around
my flowers bloom up high
then fall to the ground
in a circle we must begin and end
like an old enimey
becoming a friend
the rain in the air on this crisp spring day
is as sweet as sugar
in every way.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem