In the stillness of a beat,
there are hummingbirds
that doesn't rely on deadpan feet;
wings so fast they can't be seen.
Oh, how indeed they hover
angelic-like over one another—
twitching left to right
glowing green, then amber
pink-then-a metallic gold with delight,
almost as if they weren't in flight.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem