In the audience
of these passing clouds
I applaud only your eyes
In the alphabet of existence
I can find nothing
beginning with forgetting
I carry us like a rag doll
against my breast
I lay between
the boughs of
your tree burning
I bury my face
in your immortal ash
The scent we leave
is always blue
It leaves God
in me
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem