With flowers few an underpopulated tree
has a degree of beauty that all can see.
But if this same tree were hazy
with flowers in their myriads,
then is the heart enchanted.
It is profusion that makes
an impressionist wonderland
That the Earth with
teeming masses is filled
is deplored
but a particular beauty
may be ignored.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem