chased by the southern wind
the leaf continues to float
gliding, drifting
in the direction of nowhere.
searching this abysmal pit
a region in the cold center
of a human heart
pulsating yet not
the green in its veins
has turned brown
and brown to a darker shade.
to disintegrate is painful
lest it offers a rest.
(to kiss the ground is best
than merely to exist) .
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
'LULL' is a beautiful poem, thanx