Bare-foot I go near
tomorrow. So much more than love,
poem in a poem trembles.
Like, aspen the goddess
tree, sharing the same root quivers.
There was no storm.
Setting aside the triviality
of daily life, I drag open the funeral
mask to see the mercury planet.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Drivel. Your poems are absolute drivel! ! Just poetic soundings with no real poetic meaning or purpose in your poems. Your 85 years old and you should ashamed of yourself. Garbage.