The Best Verse
The golden bullions, thrown by a nature –
Oh how charming always is their weight!
It’s beautiful – a whirl running string set,
The flooding sounds’ powerful emersion.
It’s beautiful – deep wisdom in old scriptures,
The gleam of secrets, fire of the line.
More beautiful – to live in fancies, fine,
And, like a daisy, bloom in spring fields richest.
From all sweet flowers, given to a dream,
Maybe, this flower is the most modest,
It’s so simple, virgin, self-composed…
It doesn’t bear the dreams of orchids, slim,
Or ones of irises, so languid in repose.
But verse of few words – as the best it seems.