Longer time keeps love sweeter,
Shorter time dilutes sadness lighter.
Something is taken to store for healing the hurt,
called time.
Anything is used to torture the spirit,
time can describe.
In the spring,
I plant time in the fresh soil,
In the autumn,
A big harvest makes the earth old.
Then you know what?
Time has been blown away by the greedy wind,
Along with the husks of the fat nuts,
And the blind night without the sparkling stars.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem