this is what she writes at
the wall,
full moon,
and promises,
shines on a day
and then
fades the other days
until what is
left is
utter darkness,
and then we wait
she says,
for the new moon again
not giving up
those waning hours
shall cause sorrows for a while
but not for all those times
when
one begins to count with her fingers
other memories
sugar coated, and pinches
of salt.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem