Green sloped searching hills
splash toward the sea
with its dissolving beaches
and cormorants diving.
In mustard fields, out of
darker spaces, these tongues
exhale sunlit
flame orange to breezes.
Beneath theologies
blue shadows interlace the journey
behold: this lingering fruit
the lovers almost.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
well expressed, the thoughts expressed here still lingering in my mind