Scurried sounds of coming morn’
Crickets call and crickets warn
Nestled leaves come to rest
Imaginary mourning
And then the day, faded in
Subtle hues- airy wind
Scarlet sun- a steamy floe
Listen to the calling
But here she is once again
Her blanket hides- colors blend
Tendrils reach to daytime’s edge
Hurry in dark magic
Adversary- lost again
Darkness drizzles- dripping in
Swimming in the nighttime dew
We always feel her presence
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
a cool wonderful nighttime scenery.