song of wind

translated by PLS

i’ve seen wind, it’s a touchable force against a wish

the grasses are about to bloom no matter how withered they are, you don’t need to hide

once autumnal as a broken shadow in the tea, i will float up from the bottom

oh, the lake keeps sculpting, chasing the pathetic balance between you and me

is there really such a painting, in which nothing happens yet still being appreciated

empty hall with the only door shut, open the window let the sound of rain burn

the moth carrying fine powder fading out of signature, thus you stop writing

i also want to swirl like her, die in a cobweb like her yet to be painted by you

both running away, jumping from one old den to the other

don’t create unreal stability in the cave, and then ripple

like appoggiatura, heart beating the strings but how to swing the strengthless clock

with its most absolute flow and vocabulary of eloquence, face to face

i reappear unintentionally in this blast of wind, timid as a skirt

plentiful promises glowing as before in the newly woven romance

unprovoked convections rubbing flirtingly in the air, there are some people

who can simulate sly wings without any worry, and plummet