and after the telling; too fall inside aloft.
being full the wait was long, half empty.
low distant valley and it's running stream.
one is comming, wedged between two rocks.
mixed up with snow and hidden from the cave.
and water rises much too fast below the lip.
heavy damp the moss, released in fevered sweat.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem