still a fool who flew on the wind
a fat bumblebee
falling
from the sky
between the petals
and yellow they arched and arched
curved curves
the pollen covers it
a dizziness flows into the ground
It's night, but it's not night
it's quiet but it's not quiet
perfume on the gardener's fingers
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem