I catch the sadness
of gray woods. Stone by
stone, gathering the twilight
of fall.
Would you walk with me,
my fallen peaks,
to witness the cold and wet
dark?
A deep silence sings
in my inside. I scoop
out the golden hole of
pain.
The endless pathway,
where, you will find my
immortal verse kissing the
white snow.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem