so in the world of the heart there are windows with no rooms
among the buzz of honey bees
torn things and the skin of a heart
sparkling rain on a summer’s day
and dead things
you stand still, in silence
even if your heart, lost
before things took shape,
cries out from the window
my ears do not hear her voice
my eyes listen to her voice
Ryuichi Tamura, tr. Takako Lento
original
No comments:
Post a Comment