two leaves falling on the surface of
a very clear pond
there is no flood, no storm, no quake
but it must be fate
perhaps putting it bluntly a misfortune
all dead and numb yet still drifting away in some junctions
one to the left
and the other to the right
and i who stands on the bridge
seeking peace
looks at it with all
ease....
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem