My lunch is supper when the sun surprises me
At noon. The dry leaves excite my being
In the ways of the season I experience.
This food we surpass darkens the life
Fully and utterly, like the odd absurdity of the night.
We are in the company of snatching and crunching,
In the company of leaves that sound too real.
My sweet shower of blessings incites the spirits
To be released into the wild, yet scared are they?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem