Soul stirring smell
of wild grass
madden the air.
Calm shore lost the
count of restless tides.
Oh, such suspense between
these ticking moments
and gasping between words.
His rock was still there.
Nothing changed
yet so different. Now.
Dreamlike game of
past and present.
Lingered for long,
he walked towards
his rock.
...At last found the
pearl shining over the
rugged dark surface.
How...and when it
slipped from the earring?
Puzzle? Dream?
Or just a game
of past and present?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem