All the stars, and the blossoms, and the
jewels cannot blend
With an angel shinning smile drifting
on your face
To think I was searching for the
northern lights
Starving for a glimpse of the metropolis
by night
And yet, when your face catch
my vision
Your wide mouth is like fire to a moth
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem