You can hear
The drip of time
From the quartz clock
Only on a night like this
When it is so cold
You cannot leave the fan on
And muffle the noises
From the house and street;
Here comes the watch
Blowing his whistle
Banging the gates
Angry dogs in his wake
Like the ghosts
That sometimes keep you awake,
You don't mind
Losing some sleep
If you can get to watch
The mist paint halos
Around the saffron lamps
In the year's coldest month
Beloved of the God
Beloved of the Kuselas
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem