Steps in, no footsteps
darkness presses in.
When eyes adjust to
the shadows, there is,
in fact a golden beam.
The night before
the light was on.
Stained glass shone on
the floor; The stars
fought to come in.
Only two shadows
were making noise,
but not often.
The darkness did
not stop them; he
helped the words come
out.
The second night fell
and the shadows kept
up in the corner.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem