Plenty of darks are heaped
Before my eyes
Little by little, they will take
The shape of mountain.
Nothing left to fathom
Just at this moment
If not orbs of fire get exposed from two eyes,
Then it dares, no morn will appear in the universe.
O great eyes
Cause the fire-horse to run
Nothing left but your sudden approach.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
fire horse to run, good write.