As for before us peeks this evening,
I of you but ask.
masking love it is loud with silence…Purity…
Inside one salty taste of it and I felt of it the ocean…
Certain as for the heart that it beats.
The wind sighs.
And the moon over the lake,
which it has shone, above partitioned.
Is it the stream from the lower clouds.
That filled the pond with sounds, winged addictions.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem