The day burnt like a rose.
and the bird of the moon fled
singing. We looked at each other naked.
And the sun lifted up its red tree
in the valley. Next to the river,
two beautiful bodies, forever
young. We recognized ourselves.
We had died and woken up
from time. We looked at ourselves
again, with curiosity. And the night
returned to cover the memories.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem