In an unmindful way,
Lipi is watching the rain.
And I am going to Lipi.
I asked, where are you Lipi?
And Lipi answered
She is in rain.
It is Lipi's morning,
It is Lipi's day,
Undoubtedly I can say.
I must say
Lipi herself is the rain,
Who is crying for
What she has lost.
What Lipi possessed
Is not sufficient
Lipi casually told me yesterday.
Lipi is in the reflection,
Lipi is in punctuation,
Lipi is in meditation,
But Lipi is unmindful,
I dare not to ask
Any question further
To Lipi or to anyone here,
My fear fears Lipi only.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem