as the city makes sunshine
the mountains and plains here
make the rain,
i am wrong. I am talking
about umbrellas. I should
have told her
that she is having another
season
different from mine.
i could have let her alone.
Her age must decide what
must be done.
She is fine between her
choices: fire and water.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem