She wakes everyday
the right side of
the bed, facing east
Throughout the day
she sways to the motion
of light and shadow
At dusk she fades
petals leaning down
with graying skies
Night is her anguish
pangs of neglect
sharp as the darkness
No one understands
her diurnal emotions
but the Sun
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem