Nights touched by warm rain are gentle, full of peace. Time drifts so softly, as I can scarcely recall the frozen weight of winter. I tell myself the sepia petals, scattered and rain-soaked, are real, not memory’s invention. Even the damp air brushing my senses, woven with the hush of falling rain, grows sweet—like the scent of espresso— and I pass the hours in quiet simplicity. Spring nights touched by warm rain are gentle, full of peace.
まだ作品として定まらない「記憶する大地」の断片です。最近はあまり作品を公開していませんが、たまには詩の断片だけでもと思い直し、習作を載せてみました。 It is obviously not perfect even though Google translation and ChatGPT were also used. It’s always difficult to translate a poem into different languages.