the place just below the wind
trees undisturbed for so many generations
a pool from the eye of the deer
pine trees lining on the eyelids of the day
you are not around
and that is the time when i begin
to discover these things
solitude is the path that i have to tread now
wondering
where shall this silence take me
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem