i heard voices very familiar
almost whisper in darkness
that every ears on that circle
grow limbs to reach out to be
passing moment secluded
behind those swaying leaves
quietness is dropping ants
threads of connecting limbs
trying to reach another leaf
against backdropp of young
face of moon; late at night
when every breathe is at rest
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem