Hooting up the tree nearby
Confident of itself
The owl relaxes without
worry about tomorrow
This nocturnal bird of prey
A hunter to admire.
My present circumstance
so dark
Looks slim compared with the owl
Can't blow my own trumpet
Life quite full of thorns.
I gaze at the dark sky
Lonely without the moon
The owl still hooting freely up
the tree nearby.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem