We merry at night
Under the lamp of
The million stars
And the Milky Way
...
I taste your spinach on a Sunday noon
Killing the thought of a sad note letter
It is hurting at our last rocking moon
You tell me of some difficult weather
...
The nature of poetry
The smells of evergreen
These words I write
This country poem
...
Funny things cry
These tears laugh
Happy wounds
Lonely comedies
...
The woods are dark and calm
Some demons are quietly playing
When some years ago
A child was drawn to his game
...
The fat girl on a bench
Eats my loaves of bread
Silly act of a random circumstance
In love with herself and nonchalant
...
Let me emphasize
The thought of being
In chaos.
Empty countenance
...
When everything is alright
The grasses would be greener
The sky would be bluer
The sun would be brighter
...
Fading—
All the dreams are fading
Mending—
Do not mend at all
...