Memories cascade over moss laden rocks
Blurred and misty images chasing each other
A bird splashes and disturbs the peace
Globules stay on the crinkles of my nose
Scratching through the muddy mantle
The smell of treasured moments ooze out
Silted soil agitated blurring the shine
Of roots and leaves gilded by the sun
In that instance I remembered how I
Deftly moved my arms to your waist
Steadying your wobbly bearing
Upon stepping on slippery stones
Oh what fortunate happenstance,
Unexpected pleasure to have you enclosed
In my surprised and tremulous arms
Oh what joy, oh what bliss!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
erratum: wrinkles instead of crinkles