Fog's gone, the sky rises
to steaming heights 
sheds hot silver to gleaming bay
thin lines of fire spreading 
through the blue, hazy day.
From this hill I see 
how space
to white space fades
and bold day strides to night.
Fog's back
to block my hobbled sight.                
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
 
                    