O do not abandon a poem too soon!
For the birth of flowers is a slow process.
Let the magical flow of stars and moons
Be your guide. And then in profound stillness
Extract beauty from each burning moment.
The gnarled, old roots hidden in wintry fields
Will soon shoot through hard earth: green and softened
In spring, like the sweet remnants of a dream.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Extract beauty from each burning moment... precious words.