A Haibun
The night never ends at twelve. It continues to thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, ... in my mind. I hate the nightI can't sleep. I loathe the day because it can only march towards the night.
In these haunted hours the black beast rides my mind, and there is nothing I can do to tame it.
tick, tick, tick...
counting stars
in the skylight
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem