Abstract solitude of a country setting
draws me for a view to the window
where I draw the curtain down.
Distant mountains appear
eloquently mute to curious eyes.
But beside the tranquil lake
night penetrates into the living city
that awakens to full pitch
Vibrant, radiant lights of molten moon
forgotten by the colorful city.
Forgotten: the moon, the refreshing air
of a county home with open windows.
When the city gone colorful
forgets the mourning lake
that shivers at the consoling touch of the wind.
Yet, like a forgotten tear drop,
a lake that melts like the moon
that mirrors the lake.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem