塔
The hour of twilight is coming
The woods cast a vast obscurity of dusk
faraway behind the tower
Your soft hands search for the water source
which is disclosed behind the water mirror
like secluded path of an unpredictable season
Like the tower surrounded by obscurity
an eternal life stands quietly here
as if, ah, eventually from a deep source
the trees lift up toward the evening sky
When the faded sunlight roar away
dusk falls before your feet
Oh, your shadow must grow up
your soft searching hands
must also erect a lonely tower
— 1966
