Inspecting a nest hung high
on a dry stalk I am
caught tom-peeping.
Breathed apologies whispered,
and blinking dignities restored
to one insomniac mouse,
the last I see is
two white hind feet,
indignant tail gone
under silken eaves of milkweed.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This is such high quality beautiful writing. I seem to see the mouse blinking, perplexed.