In this boring winter
I don't want to write any more poems, really.
Write from midnight to dawn
Write from spring to winter
From rich to poor
I write poetry fragments day and night.
I painted the gray love in a dark way.
Love, let me rest in your arms!
Just like in my mother's arms, whispering!
Let me daydream!
In my dream, I have been sleeping in colorful.
In my dream, I have no dream.
There are no fragments of poetry.
No sensitive ideas
Only the stove in winter, shining bright blue.
Let me wake up in spring!
Soil, flowers, birds.
Woke up with crops and snakes.
Drink seasonal wine together.
Look at the beautiful sunflowers together.
But, honey,
I still want to write a poem for you.
On this meditative night
On this sacred festival
On white paper
Write the last poem for you this winter.