Flashes of light in moonless dark,
here but then not, there but then gone,
the briefest glimpse is all they are,
try to find catch one, but there is none,
it's drifted off, just to my left,
then to my right, his tail-light on,
a constellation slowly flows,
through my backyard on evenings long.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem