Следы босых ног на песке

Traces and tracks. Barefeet on the sand.
Seems like a hostile penetration.
Same as temptation to pass border line
crossing an enemy state.

Traces and tracks. Barefeet on the sand.
Step on a soaking temple.
Red like an apple, rising in mind
clod of the sun in my hand.

Traces and tracks. Barefeet on the sand.
A novel she scrawls on a ground
hastily bound to dare remind
of the tenderness story she meant.

Дядя Миша-сан, поэтический перевод, 2003

Сертификат Поэзия.ру: серия 625 № 17795 от 21.08.2003

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