I still remember,
being just six years old,
I was collecting stones on the riverbank...
It was raining,
and I was rinsing them in puddles...
They were so pretty!
Round and flat,
red, white and yellow,
smooth and shiny...
The sky was crying with rain,
and I was sitting there, focused on my little task...
Twenty six years have passed.
I'm occupied with my own world all the same.
And heaven still cries, swallowing its tears...
* * * * *