THE GARDEN
A curtain over the garden a night is hanging,
Against the flies a mulberry tree is pushing.
Against the tree the moon is slowly leaning,
An apricot-a bride, its white gown is wearing.
Of the leaves care taking and flirting,
At the moon the wind is blowing, fanning.
In a boat like flower bowel an ant is lying,
Into the water a beetle falls splashing.
Over its head the flowers it is throwing,
From joy a grasshopper is singing, chirping,
Its mouth opening wide and without waiting
Its turn, the frog is singing, quack-quacking.
The dragon fly is a disobedient dancer, flying,
With its tongue the flower bulb it is amusing.
Drunk with the world a dizzy moon, crawling,
In the dawn into its bedroom it goes, fading.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem