Then if you, ' I too must go.
Waiting for the coming rain,
I can only watch you,
wash your lovely common face.
Still and still, so still I see you climb
the hills and fog surrounds the pink thin vale.
Living beyond, each shadows means.
Your eyes are always changing grey in color
looking do the clouds at dusk,
and coming back the curves they turn along.
The bottom of the softer clouds.
Can sharp edges part the silver tops?
And long for you, I still believe.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem