All distances go to zero,
Here toes to the sky matters.
Here reaching toward trees is immediate;
All trails answer to one blue stretch of heaven.
Underlining dew traces the fingers questions.
The moon tops endless distances, a moving lamp.
Looking down at nothing means moist clover.
No flower denies the grasp of another one.
The nighttime eye is fascinated by only a cloud,
Hollowing out the stars:
The universe has its own implacable reasons.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem