I shall come to you
in rippling atmosphere,
when the foxglove stands tall
and all summer is at peace.
When your merry love making
is over and forgotten
and even the clouds are still.
Listen to crickets calling...
they will tell you
I am there in my invisability
and perfumes of dew.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
perfumes of dew and invisibility, good one.