Wednesday, September 22, 2010

Broken Twig

Goddess of winter is at last awake
There are arrivals of departures
Of seasons and peoples
Bees of hours suck honey
From the flowers of my chronicle
Of love of an eternal whore
Every season brings a relic
From some far-away corner
Where the twilight scatters his shadow
Tentacles of nameless desires
Slither within me
Like swimming in the flood of wind
Like walking with no end
In the trimmed fields of ripe paddy
Like laying at the foothill
Caressing the green fur of the mammoth mountain
Like knitting a yarn from the cotton cloud...
Of all ...
Golden evening sky with the lonesome star
Broke the branches of my heart
My tears are none but
The dew at the tip of a broken twig

1 comment: