To cast fear aside
on a night when you are left alone
sleeplessly
you resort to an imagination
rooted to a muddy
ground
it is an imagination of
twigs and lush leaves where
birds come
and perch and then
sing with you
some friends of shadows
against your moon
come and begin to
whistle
and the night becomes so lovely
that you begin
to remember what life before
was all about
what a feast! what a love!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem