Mjut - Dom poety

Tłumaczenie:

There is always autumn, under the cloister of trees
A pinkish lion is picking golden apples
There is always winter, to the ice arc of clouds
A cerulean moose is raising a branch of white dreams
There is always spring, on a smoking field
A green bird is dropping wings of red glows
There is always summer, from the creased rivers
A yellow bear is turning its honey-carved head