At the distant old lake
Your reflection wavers on wandering waves
In the limitless enmity of past
your eyebrows are arched in anticipation
as if raised by the pallid moon
the pure and sanguine jealousy
glides over the undulating water
cold breeze unveils the hidden spaces
draped with, you drown in fear
lest, reflection will him
already you withstand the departure
but the still lake, the pallid moon
you, the reflection
all is at rest a stone throwaway
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Wow this is awesome...your are a true poet that writes from the heart...keep up the good work