I tried to contrive a song whose
pearly dreams sheltered beneath sleep
existed as the sheen in your eye
a voice less the sound
I made fortunes, the golden wheat ambering
your arms; there is a sun that refused
to set behind that blue sky of yours…
Instead of a rose,
here are my well-endowed branches thick
with berries, and hopefully their sweetness
is punctured with a little bitterness
your palate is water that I lash out to with my
own fire, as I float eagerly into your arms
your smile is a calm sea mirrored
in a single dewdrop
___________________________________
(13 June 2004, For John)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem