Pour the eyes, crystal soul
Venus radiant, tears of wax
The skin listens exquisite, the roots.
Drying out on the green valley
Draw by the river monsoon
Carry by flutes in the air
Citing, misleading
Planting pressed cracks.
In the pots, boiling soft
Pink sunset at the back door
A young olive tree whisper
The autumn night, warm like calm rain
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem