Dropped like a bull from the womb
Three steps from the tomb
An oak in the acorn / the fire in the wood
Waiting for a lover to find me
Across the years and towards a dawn where
A nervous sun rises to stand where moon has stood
To shine light on the gardenia’s wilted fragrance
To once again embrace as one in passion’s dance
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem