turn my back from seashore
watching you walking away
slippers on your right hand
footstep buried deep in sand
i trace them, making us one
behind elephant grass mound
a beach-mat spread empty
besides you and me gazing
at cloudy sky disturb by birds
thinking they found us; food
not today we are just resting
maybe weekend when it's bright
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem