Blind taste towers Caph drips
honeys tears upward to Cassiopeia
golden years to plan.
Light face discernable reach
cups trace a merry
dance none can afford.
Hollow read stretches eye in hand
to hold this fountains moat in rain
in showers amber white in red
has flowed across a lip or two
with you.
Cradled head in crossing star bosoms
beauty never far in
curtain masking jars of wine
to face another day without a jar that weeps
your whisper heard within my name......
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem