a church bell rings out in the distant fog
that hangs over our morning today
to and fro the birds chirp
with songs more intricate than the ear can hear
dew droplets rest on the ends of spruce leaves
their sprigs, shaken, from the rain weather greeted it
and whether storms lie in wait
tomorrow
i wait to meet it

It is snowing today with Crumbs of bread,
the Crumbs pass through the air,
fall, and only where they do not fall,
and only who does not nibble on them,
every day a flock of birds flies
around a Crumb of bread, an anthill feeds,
*
There were so many of us around the table,
like giants in drops of blood,
my mother didn't scold us
if the Crumbs fell on the floor, rather
a sister or brother pointed the finger:
you have made Crambs, it falls from you,
not from me, from you, see how you scatter,
- I just swept around the house,

My mother knew how to calm us down:
"The Crumbs come to our house from heaven,
grandparents, grandmothers ask to be remembered
my dear children, it's a great pity to quarrel
or blame each other when you eat at the table,
- you know, we, people whatever place we pass
we leave behind us Crumbs,
you better call the birds to nibble at will,
and let the Crumbs also make wings.

i have become angry
angry at how
the colors in the sky
are painted of you

and all the colors
you said
i reminded you of

have washed away from me
and into the earths skin
so that they may
form sheets of flowers

to remind the earth
of how your beauty
still lives within a world

that is no longer beautiful
to people
such as me

There on the wind
Is that a bird or just an image
Am I dreaming of something
Is anything real here

The woods by my house
They sway in the breeze
Picturesque in this dream
They shake their leaves as they die

The clouds are drifting
They are white on this gray background
Fluffy but wet as they go
They shake and they cry for the Earth

Is anything here real
It all looks like a dream to me
The birds are flying past
The wind blows across my face

In this wretched Earth
There is nothing to be gained
Nothing to dream of
Just wait for the stars to fall
And watch every face burn up

it is a shadow

of the tree
dark lighting
at the zenith of the day, tasting
the sweat on man”s forehead

the child of the sun
it is a shadow

of grass
opaque existence
angle of light
in the calmness of the earth

the child of the sun
it is a shadow, silently
following the man
to the water spring
in the valley of springs,

the mother sun
quenches its thirst
with the tears of the earth,

the child of the sun
it is a shadow

Pink sunset caress gently pink dogwoods and lilacs.
They're guests at the arousing
of spring's bloomy breath.
I give you my sensual loving embrace
as the blossoms show my gratitude for you.

Milky-white trees flow
in the light waves of wind.
Cherry branches swing calmly and sing,
close to amusing forsythias and golden sands.
In the morning cityscape, I say "welcome, my spring".

Strawberry rivers in daylight cross my path
and hearts of crimson pomegranates
kiss its surface with passion.
Crunchy coffee's aroma lead my way
to thy enchanting love fit to stop our time.

Nature awakes for giving birth
to the colorful children of mother Earth.
We gather together in devotion
adoring our love by notes of symphony
and vibes of emphatic emotion.

Crunchy chocolate melts,
the sun has arrived to warm us.
Rain droplets drown it in a stream of unity
as we ought for a new beginning in our souls.
Let your ears open their senses to the musical goals.