Scattered among the grass and gravel
Were bits and pieces of my broken eyeglasses.
When I stooped to pick up a shiny stone, it fell …
Another funny moment when a photo became a mess.
A sense of sight almost used up after more than fifty years -
Of watching endless parades of great legends that I believed,
Of looking for pictures and stories to cover up my fears,
Of braving the grey mist of them who left while I lived.
So, yes, I could see more yet most were unclear …
Among the haze and shadows were a cacophony of shapes -
I seemed lost in a stormy sea of whispers I could hear …
Imagining rhythm among some kind of shifting landscapes.
I shall be gone but before that I must get back there …
To that little nook of secrets in my wide, blue ocean.
There I will cease to be blind even without my crystal pair
For I know every inch of my home like the roads I had ran.
I just need a tiny glow, something that might make a spark
To point me to that shore beyond the waves like that lone star …
Among thousands of leaves, let me find one with a fire mark,
A stream among beams I'd grasp no matter how far.
Love then was a walk in the fields and into the forest -
Losing my way after dropping to my knees …
Fighting the growls of hunger and the grips of darkness …
Then finding the streaks of white and yellow beyond the trees.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem