n ice wing in the ice of the lake
the sun's fire had descended there
and pick it up
he was in love with winter
slow
slow
he raises it up more easily
after a crack
the moon saw her on the evening
first
in the form of steam
with honey shine
a free wing
kissed by billions of photons
from near and far
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem