When the night settles down it sleeps.
The night wind is warm as it settles,
sweet sport or mirthful celebration.
Hearing a noise,
weather there it is, or not.
Weather you had known me not, her well.
Where I knowest you not, hearing laugher,
and she 'said', untill then....stay free.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem