Flood

My heart's heavy waterfalls start to pour. 

Flood breaks through my spring's window as it

tears in its autumn. 

Two years past, but the mango tree still fruitless.

Should my waterfalls feed it to blossom? 

O' Traveller!

Take your umbrella! My rain is streaming down NO WAY 

He passed me astonished saying "We are in April not in December". 

It turns to me, I am the only one in the whirl of infinite winters. 

With a featureless face I look up to the horizon.

I Shout! O' my Flood!

My Shelter! My Savior!

Fling me as Noah to the island of oblivion.

Where my ship of memories berths on a mountain of dead wishes; 

As I dwell there like a scarecrow hovered by crows and dried meadows. 

Waterfalls!

 Flood!

On the island of oblivion—

My heart waves to the sunset and digs a grave for itself.