In the long grass in a great calm a tiny man
listens to the flow of time and eyes the clouds.
Summer is great, the sky is bright, all is still there,
but already in another calm - - - - -
Utterly other. And he notices: in the grass lies a man
like a dark dot or a comma in a picture of time.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem