Moonlight spills into the sea, sinking as thin
shadows in a rushing wind
thicken with darkness coming in
and clouds collapse into mist.
From a blur of beach it seems one can touch
the rock in the wrecking shallows on whose peaks
gulls crouch: out of the sea
like a drowned face the white moon floats up.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem