That which goes through the clouds yellow lining,
shadow of your keeper
rain and more rain which is newly spotted,
concisely to the feeling which is slowly it's sensitiveness,
do not to worry over the fact,
that the movement of an ever widening circle,
and you open one eye, nurse it and worry do to enter easily,
it is not possible to be able to obtain,
an understanding when guttural primitive language,
rather than being thus deeper, the earth laid out keeps,
deeper still each new feeling do you feel as it shakes
the finger which stimulates each nerve between the curve
and to the shadow of your perpetual keeper......
how softly it whispers,
and death being......'Careful'.....opens slowly and enters.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem