o, i am a
geisha to you
and you miss
me,
i am saddened
by the death
of my expectations
i have not kept
what i value much
i am a wilting
chrysanthemum
i am chilled
by your winter
and i have seen
that spring is still that
far
soon i will fade
like a sunset
but i, geisha,
fine lady of the arts
makes this oath,
even in the other
world i shall keep on
carving the words
the air my chisel
my emptiness my canvass
my lips the sun
till the next life
my hair shall flow
like forever
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem