As the candle is lit
a tiny spark
that flourishes
and blooms
into a flame
fire ignited
it dances
making shadow puppet figures
on the cold stone walls
a gust of wind
through the open window
the night queen
sending her cold breeze
to take the life
of the flickering flame
that dies out
ever
so
slowly
and then it's gone
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem