he is
like a stray leaf,
flying and flying,
but never losing
his momentum
others may find it
another wonder.
At least i do.
what is the difference
between two people
who own a house
and one who doesn't?
does the former feel
proud and secure?
today, he has seen
the bubbly warm-stream
transforming ~
into an ice-flow, thawed,
by the mystic touch
of a sorcerer's
through his water-mirror,
he has seen a ship in the sky
upside down, suspended,
in the frigid desert
the blooming jasmine, soft,
in the backyard,
turning ~
into its stony duality
the arcane sun deity
dances on the leaves, sending
an unclear signal
many houses are standing in line—
most of the rooms
of breathtaking opulence
are empty
He stares at those houses like a child
'You may get in trouble, if you become a child here.'
a passerby whispers, and then disappears like a ghost ~
through the narrow passage
of a fog-lane
'Why is time so busy and fidgety? '
he murmurs.
in the distance, he sees a house
he knows that it's a mirage
the clouds of uncertainty are floating
a concealed pendulum,
ceaseless,
is swaying
he,
unyielding relentless,
once again
starts swinging...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem