Time to try, time to fly, time to look at the world through a fly.
All love grows for all but the butterfly rhyme.
It's time to try, time to fly for you need the self-impulse controlled.
Love the winter, love the time
Moving through time,
We are all inside the sign they keep intwined around their finger.
Striving for perfection through the winding tide of contraption.
The flowing tide going through the entire mind
In the butterfly rhyme
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem