Slay me,
and place my body,
beneath a rock.
One day,
the rock,
shall conjure up my spirit.
I'll wait,
till you send me a quill,
at the end of your flight.
To start a line again,
on the smiling Buddha, -
my metamorphosed friend,
who guards me in drought.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Superb poem.....like the title too very much....thank you