feelings are sometimes like the tiny birds
of summer feeding on a few grains
on the wide yards of the garden where the grasses
spread far
some do feel being smothered by the indifference of other
tiny birds
separated by the distance of the long lines of
parallel electric poles
imagine the image of tiny birds sitting in there
looking for pecking
one notices the vastness of the sky
the unfinished climb of the hill
the vanishing paths of trails long untrue
feelings like tiny birds fly away
but there is no reason to be afraid on the
facts of nonreciprocating birds
ah, the world is wide and too interesting
to be ignored
on a few grains one feeds upon
and having satisfied sits lonelier on the line of an electric pole
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I have read several of your pieces before commenting on this one. I was afraid that the refreshing spark of vibrant life I encountered in the first piece might have been an aberration. I was wrong. I was perhaps prejudiced by the sheer magnitude of your collection, presuming that substance would not be found in such quantity. I was very wrong. I anticipate with gladness the acquainting of myself with more of your work. Bravo!