Who holds it all up?
The sun; this day's
Mood; a sweet song-soaring bird's.
And ours; in having leapt
Laughs off dismays.
This same flexed power
Godly nice; to
Raise in their hearts, spring-time hopes.
Even a bulb's, winter-buried.
Even Death through!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem