tapping hoves of a working horse
over cobblestones dusking stretch
dim light runs along so as stores
flashes come; capture pretty faces
i sit by corner watching time pass
so long as walls of plaster faded
footstep sending way back in ages
those shell squares on windows
used to be sliding to uncover smile
behind those heavy golden curtains
gentle hand wave sealed for love
keep secret in eyes of flying dove
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem