An old owl or a swallow in flight think of the stars to be round eyes.
The stars are neither theirs nor a wizard's.
I am an old owl spellbound by nights.
I am a young swallow with love in my heart.
I jump over the clouds' shoulders somewhere high.
The woods are not forever of the owls' or mine.
The clouds don't forever bind a spell to the swallows' minds.
Hi, sky! Leaves are born in buds.
Sky! You look down but they look up.
Neither nights nor days are forever theirs or mine.
Owls are birds but they don't fly fast.
Swallows fly miles but they don't dive.
Fish dive but the waters are not forever theirs or mine.
I THANK DESTINY
Do I remember meeting a fortuneteller or a prophet?
The drift of my thoughts down the river floats with its bell.
What is going back?
What's rushing ahead?
The stars first met me when I was neither born nor I was dead.
I didn't find you before my birth or after my death.
Neither a prophet nor a fortuneteller had ever foreseen that an albatross would fly you to me from your distant land.
A thousand of stars roaming in the sky all got together to foretell.
A hundred of nightingales are now together to let us hear their soprano's band.
Did we know that one jeweler had already made our wedding rings before we met?
I thank destiny for the albatross which brought you to my life's deck.
THE FROZEN DOVE
Hey, world! I dare to ask you if you noticed that lonely dove on a white path.
It didn't have a shelter but it had something warm in its tiny brain.
The winter was frosty with its crystal chain.
Which snowflake may have a fear to fly like a crane?
A crane hardly meets a winter anywhere.
Cranes knit their roads instead of their nests.
Hey snowflakes! I dare to ask you if you took the dove somewhere else.
The winter was frosty and the dove's wings were in laze.
The dove's nest disappeared but who knows why and when.
Its weak beak would fail to knit a new nest in another place.
The dove's frozen body was probably taken with a spade.
Hey world! I dare to ask you if the dove was here with its quiet breath.
Was the dove born and did it grow up to get a mate?
The dove was probably nothing else but a told tale.
Hey world! I dare to ask you again.