Anything could be made of
A white paper
A plane, a kite, for example
By pushing, a folded one under the uneven leg
Could stabilize a wobbly table
Or
A poem could be written
Even if its value is more null than others

Anything could be written down
On a white paper
Except you
It’s hard to find an image
Similar to you
You’d better ask who would try to imitate you
From a rose, a spring
There is a remedy in nature
About why you look like a flower
And my gardener, hopelessness.
I am good at plants, saplings
But I can’t explain
The conversation between sun and ground
By way of a flower which tries to emulate you

The only thing I need from you is a light
I do have lots of buds
My roots are hidden inside me
Up
Sometimes down
You want a poem from me
Which contains many similes
I’m sorry my love
There is no such thing in my saddlebag
As beautiful as you

Someone who is coming from far away
Unprepared,
Unmitigated,
A goner,
Me
I’ve passed by passionate loves, rubbishy loves
Emptiness of a white paper on my breast
But I explained everything
True-False
Mature-Raw
If I knew all the painful stopovers headed for you
All the unsterilized friendships,
I would run faster
To the coral blueness of your eyes

To look at you is
To look at water
To look at you is
To understand a miracle

Streets are my witness
Looking neither left nor right
Straight forward to your longing
Inquiry of a love and a judge at night
Again inequitably pregnant
Only handcuffs are defensive
Whatever I’ve written doesn’t work
Because they remember who know
It is not the gardener but the merchant
Who sells the rose
Such beautiful eyes
Such a cooperation of sun and ground
Such a complexion of a heaven slipperiness
To write you a poem is a silliness

Only a word left behind you
From between my teeth
When I call you my rose
The lifetime of a rose grows longer somewhere in the world

All promises given by me
Must stay with you
Please!
I call you a rose
The rose is immortal by virtue of you
All poems written by me
Are the forward to a book about you, yet to be begun
To look at you is
To look at a white paper
Ready to be anything
To look at you is
To look at water,
To be ashamed of what you see
To look at you is
To reject all coincidences
And to understand a miracle
To look at you is
To believe in God.