I really want to try its sour and sweet taste,
but I also want it may,
sleep as an ink-stone with great grace.
So it won’t see the hidden greediness on my face.
Oh, the apple in the plate,
now I just want to kiss her,
so it will have a sweeter sleep,
until it lose water with wrinkles deep.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem