In morning
you sent
towering clouds
and fine ice driven
into spring roses,
red petals scattered
on pure white ground
and took my breath away,
so now I seek you
like death
clear and clean
in lingering day
as green and golden,
long shadows flow east
and birdsong fills
nodding trees.
Breathless
I hear you
in gentle rhythm
of swaying wind
I hear my father’s
song again
empty at last
fulfilled.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem