It's raining, my love
Autumn scrapes all the
loves together
And sadness is but
a clowns' joke.
It's raining, my love
and the cranes' fear
is the fifth season.
It's only the
two of us here,
otherwise it's quiet
as in a lily's petal ...

Where are you
I ask,
I must ask you
where has run away
she who used to float
the angles' wet stems,
she who used to thin the light,
dressed in the real slumber,
she who used to revive
the darkness,
she who watched me once
with her wet eyes ...

The two of us
I was lying, with you
in the middle of the night,
splashed with the blood of the leaves
that autumn crowns
with ashes.
Lost cranes
do you remember?
grieved the natural for a moment
in their flight to
the unknown ...

A rainy morning
It rains over the popular wood
it slowly rains over the willage.
Drops on the grass, drops
that fall asleep
on the red apples.

I look forward to the
daybreak
leaned against the writing table.
There blows the wind, in the house
the rainbow of silence
sleeps on the silk of the pillows.