A silent white birch
erects a cross in the eyes
Becoming a mulberry field is the impulse of the sea
You prepare yourself all your life
Which blood sacrifice did you want to be?
You keep retreating into your eyes
Though candlelight is never extinguished
the flare decreases, the flash of eyes
only reach your chest
Wine is giving testimony in blood
like the blaze of that year
challenging time in wind
A red dragonfly
is flying toward the farewell of the sunset
The root of the year reciprocates soil
The summer has been shaded by foliage
After the fall, you will shrink in your room
speaking nothing, going nowhere
A restless bird
is flying to and from in your chest
till your body broken
unthreads herself, going away
How desperately you need music,
strong wine
and an epitaph, and need to
sprout out of the ground like a sapling