Under the bright moon on the dust road
I see him walking dressed up to the nines
with a bush of daisies in his hand
and he walks to where a light is burning in the distance.
He does wonder if he is going to find her there
and if she does remember him
while he presses the flowers against his chest
and he walks along while his feet do again find the familiar road
with a song in his heart and around him the cold evening wind blows.
When he notices her it feels as if his heart is beating in his throat
but nothing can stop him
and what he says comes effortless from his heart.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem