Shiny raindrops hang
bells to a small berry-tree,
a small bird dive in.
*
The snout of the wind
cry with grief at the corner,
cannot find real peace.
*
After rain steam come
like breathe from the pitch-black tar
wishing away cars.
*
My house hides stoutly
when the blue-white thunder come
with the eyes drawn shut.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem