dreams are bereft of you
My mail carries a secret
Inside it is a flying dove
that comes back to the owner
and flies south
in the Summer
to be like other birds
and lands on my tip
and spreads its wings across my mouth
and dove-like returns to you
without your attention
so you never know that I have kissed you
and you never know that I still abide by you
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem