1 shoreline
The old place seemed to have mirrors
everywhere: the same windows on a well-worn-way-side.
I wanted foreign-ness, a landscape with a shore-
line; no mirror except the sea.
2 nightgarden
this evening’s journey
spreads blue pillows from the west
and fog wets the beds
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem