There was smoke
without a candle. I had been moved.
My gold rings sit on the moon.
I don't claim my pain.
The immaculate crime. I have not
taken the call. The end waits at the door.
I got you easy under
sacred tree. I am yet afraid of me.
The dry leaves carry the name of the tree.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A well crafted poem.Very thought provoking.