the scissor trims
taking only what is necessary
for the design
the excess becomes
useless, thrown
away
and those which
are meant to stay
stay, and become
a part of
a new landscape
flowers
and leaves
and stones
in her own kind
of tapestry
and those who
are thrown away
shall keep the
faith of
next time
nothing diminishes
the importance later
of what she deems
as useless
that night
she thinks that something
is missing
yes, the grass.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem