Yes,
and they are stars...
This, my dream
of yours,
upon your face the sky...
Yes,
even if it can not rain...
They are my tears.
Being tears,
ten thoudand angels sing...
Yes, these all, are mine.
Not a single hair of grey...
It only then begins snowfalls
when snow it drops....
And Yes, they are hot stars...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Thanks for such improvisations... Very lovely.. Tsira