… And deep into the night dark
I exit out my humble home,
Six steps left, to the dirt, for my last cigarette.
The cicadas have awakened,
And risen up up up to the treetops (touching stars) .
The surrounding hills echo eighth-note bursts of “ch ch ch” sounds back and forth …
Back and forth and back and forth and back and forth and back and forth and back and forth … On end …
Until the light quietly grows, New,
Calming the black …
And the subtle Sun shines on beautiful yellowing leaves.
And the subtle Sun shines on beautiful yellowing leaves.
And the subtle Sun shines on beautiful yellowing leaves.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem