You; me lying on grass hill
waiting for clouds to clear
as crimson ball turn to pink
seeks shelter to western slope
fireflies twinkling their way
to grass blades; so colorful
one landed on my palm
I place closer to your face
some join in; soft glow
reflecting your sweet smile
some are on your hair flashing
forming crown; I am breathless
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Your sweet smile! ! Thanks for sharing.