Offers appeared but seldom,
Across the waters acted something;
One person melted into a meeting,
Beneath a rock they remembered.
From age to age the requests were fulfilled,
Accept them when they lose themselves.
A brooding dove complains afterwards,
When a perspiring pigeon hoots and clobbers the other.
The sky’s gone dark, darker than the night
When morning arrives too hard, hardly with a scratch.
The birds of the morning are around
Like cars of the day, and bikes of the evening.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem