Magic moves the air
Now and then;
It is
The magic of words
That is soft and quiet
And
The magic of deeds,
True and direct,
Only in my dreams
That survive the nights,
Far away from the sun,
Capped
In coloured glass bottles
Buried in the sand
Besides
A deep blue lake.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem