Is not the time to learn
your gait haste
with rain in mind reading

poems.
       Noise umbrella in fog
ringing in my head, the night of Gethsemane.


Summer residence of the child sleepy
make an apple fall

on the ground, well-fed water,
opportunity to steal gently
your smile. transiency

letyachshih days of summer. ease
my fate and the light of peace.


Is not the time to be together,
silent, eyes closed to the stars
or snow. We do not live-

We are prisoners of freedom later ...

Only he who is tormented day

apple in her hands, Bele
Autumn in the garden with your forehead,
long sleep.

"Not yet," - whispered himself.
In my window,
all cold Peace gathering,

flying snow, and I do not know
where is the time where Onno.