You said
this was it.
The fog over the
shoulders will
sweep the profiles.
You did not know
how to give, and I
would not know, how
to take.
Maples, pears, and ginkgos
will show the fallacy
of colors in autumn.
And you, unblinkingly
watch a
poet's dilemma.
And I would just only stare
into your eyes.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem