While loving touches in the spring of orchard
Dead mind wakes up with thirst
as golden sun
And, all cleared ice lying on the chest,
start melting
Then, I love you in the presence of desire
Like Picasso, your body is free to paint!
And the lotus floating in the stars of my eyes,
Tell me, how do I love you?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem