We lie still on a silent green slope
watching the clouds for hours
in their unending transformation
You see a crocodile, I see a monkey,
you see a turtle, I see a tiny fish
then there is silence and I think of you
Much later, attuned to thoughts of grief
oblivious of the highs and lows that were
and how we share a name and a belief
that poetry will find us there.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem