Still in winter, on a tree branch two peregrines sit on and stand up.
And folding their wings and facing the clear wind to come,
Dreaming of spring, their uncontrollable youthful passion which bubbles up
Rubbing their beaks and whispering to each other, preparing for the day to come.
(1st, Apr.,2023)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem