THE world puts off its mask of vastness to its lover.
It becomes small as one song,
as one kiss of the eternal.
O TROUPE of little vagrants of the world,
leave your footprints in my words.
IF you shed tears when you miss the sun,
you also miss the stars.
ONCE we dreamt that we were strangers.
We wake up to find that we were dear to each other.
STRAY birds of summer come to my window
to sing and fly away.
And yellow leaves of autumn,
which have no songs,
flutter and fall there with a sigh.
IT is the tears of the earth
that keep her smiles in bloom.
THE mighty desert is burning
for the love of a blade of grass
who shakes her head and laughs
and flies away.
THE sands in your way beg for your song
and your movement, dancing water.
Will you carry the burden of their lameness?
HER wistful face haunts my dreams
like the rain at night.
SORROW is hushed into peace in my heart
like the evening among the silent trees.
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