Listen.
Do you see
that you can't hear snowfall?
Look.
Do you sense
that you can't see love?
Touch.
Do you grasp
that you can't catch poems?
Try.
Smell this glass.
Go on taste this cloud.
These material senses won't get you far until
you feel
the velvet glove caress your soul.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem