In the comfortable daze of half-sleep
I lay with you
Your nape a bed-couch
For my eyelids
Softness beholds us-the breeziness of exhales
Imagine freshness of cool moisture
Subtle as water grain on lily pads
Sleep prevails not to make this bliss break
The world of motion calls not to awake
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem