Foreboding
As suns go down, those impermeable
shadows move across mountain slopes.
The heart of darkness passes over
where all cats are equally black.
Birds and mammals with curved wings,
flit quick and fluid like limpid phantasm.
Bell-voiced bats pang darkness,
swallows dart and knit river trees.
Children of the night play between
shadow-land and moonlight.
Mothers lamenting, seek lost souls:
Owls croon in search of spirits to eat.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
playing between shadow-land and moonlight. I like it.