A slithering fog with cottony stealth envelopes the sleeping trees constricting the forest in its undulating misty grasp.
It swallows colors covering fragrances in a shed scale vapor of dewdrop trails.
Engorged and satiated it crawls up the mountainside to sleep until awakened by the hunger of another day.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem