Mom, for why your son is that much egotistic?
Going to catch the sky; irresponsibly looking up,
eventually - bought up the touch of century; entire emptiness.
Perhaps, some people choose up self- written perishable flood,
hence, I inundated whole of mine in the pleasant swamp.
Flying clouds as much fly; river is the destination of them.
With touchiness, relief--
extended hands to soothing water,
to the whole grassland of the the earth.
Claimed healing into the beauty of poetry,
excavated the heart through the speech of prayer,
In the last part of path; the yellow envelope of dejection on my hand!
Why egotism becomes so long in the fugacious life?
For what It's like ice?
Melting inside of mine gradually;
How such flame of water fires up in the frame of soil?
What kind of sight of touchiness; cries out at the distance of distance?
Who say; sulks pushes away, It's the bridge of reunion;
Look Mom! Burning himself in the sun, how silent the boy at the end of day;
Takes shelter in the shadow of you; as decent weeds.