Virginal and silent,
unbroken by steps
that would turn
stones into shaken beats.
Alongside brewed growth,
soft layers of life
simple with worms,
nightcloth and grass song.
A stride away from the lights
of distant roads,
the air cools,
we are new under stars.
(This is the picture that
makes me stare holes
through the night, you turn
asleep in your bed,
a cocoon of linen and camomile)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem