The snake
has sloughed its
skin of last year,
to the sight of
envision the footprint
of steed have
erased- respite at
the quay. Our arms
are readily outward
for the embrace
of season where
orchard is variegated
with glamour, after
this quay my joy,
affluence are paroxysms.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem