Summer friends now fall away with autumn leaves
Yet I, the last man standing,
will stay faithful to our covenant of kinder days.
I still see the warm smiles of summer eyes
and taste the breathless, impassioned kiss of blood moon nights.
If I be the solitary blade of wheat
neglected by the harvest reaper,
then our song of summer I will sing.
Though stinging winds would rip and tear,
love will not be silenced by separation
or diminished by death's decree.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem