Because no one would take me,
I went to my grandmother's headstone by myself.
It was quiet by the cemetery road,
And when I spoke to her I could almost hear
I loved you because love is unburnable.
Because the thought of love occurs
Before we can think. Memory
Before we light the fire. She is in the snow's star
Now—I hear a voice
When it's dark enough. The less lit below,
The greater the view above.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem