The moonlight―
singed him at night.
How will you write a poem?
*
Standing at window,
you watch a shooting star―
hearing a cuckoo’s two-note call.
*
Picking red hollyhocks,
your face swims before me,
and fleeting time!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
very pleasant, particularly one experiences at the wee hour of the night..as usual beautiful Vermaji