The Blue Horizon Poem
like the flames of a flower;
in spring, the flames of the fragrance rise,
the sky is perplexed in the binding of the sun rays,
to the earth, she asks for herself and
rises like a flower in the mustard field.
my pain spread out to the blue horizon,
digging up lost desires,
she asks for herself in this spring,
rises like a wave in the mustard field.