waves over wheat fields
too young to bear fruits
swaying to winds tune
...pheasant flew; so lovely
pulls my heart slowly
waiting you summer day
dust curls above dirt road
distant path nobody walks
i saw twinkle on far horizon
fading with clouds borne
zipping my lips, you own
with gentleness of a moon
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem