Sometimes, I find, it's the small things in life,
That mirror the rare beauty of this world:
The soft, calming voice in times of great strife;
The wise, and considerate, gentle word.
These things are like precious flowers that grow
In the desert; often unnoticed by
Modern eyes; that are incessantly prone
To seeking, that which glows with garish light.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem