Having laboured through
A winding night that denial is
I was glad to dream of desires
Dream of those slant-eyed yearnings
With lashes stretched heavenward
The silken, sinuous winding curves
that baffles the senses to disbelief
In those prayed craved dreams I
Wanted to go down on my knees and beg
To rest your head on my shoulder
For one out of the 116 full moon nights
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem