simmering gleams of running brook
tiny lights landing on the ripples of the notes of this song
a caravan of joys, a stream of simultaneous ecstasies
waters falling on my hair draining to the tips of my feet
how fingers slowly drip like drops of ice cream from your lips
lovely lovely meeting of our souls in one bed of heavenly skies.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem