Quietly looking about this night, staring into it's shadows,
trying to make out their forms in moonlight, mystifying, a
sense of prolific magic hanging in the air.
Kicking dirt with toes, playfully scuffing them, watching
dust as it's lifted into the air in darkness and then it
disappears in a moment of moonlight.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem