Spring

It flutters out on little bee-wings.
Its singing I like, it praises
with a hidden prayer.
From the glittering dew
a butterfly flies out
in love with itself for the peach flowers.
A wintry crow rests on a light spot
and inside its dried feathers
a wet body.
I’ve been looking the whole winter
at a piece of yellow leaf
and now it escapes from the spring harmony,
a solo,
blessing from low
upward.

春天

春天

被蜜蜂的小翅膀扇得更远
我喜欢它的歌唱
赞美中隐含祈祷
露珠抖动了一下
第一只蝴蝶飞出来
它替桃花喜欢自己
飞过冬天的乌站在光斑上
它干了的羽毛里
身体还是湿的呢
我凝望了一冬的
那片黄叶
从春天的和声中
脱离出来
它在低处
向上祝福