Dust of the sea, barely open
routes of the sea foam.
Dust of the sea, the tongue
receives a kiss
of the night sea from you:
taste recognizes
the ocean in each salted morsel,
and therefore the smallest,
the tiniest
wave of the shaker
brings home to us
not only your domestic whiteness
but the inward flavor of the infinite.
translated by Robert Bly
I cannot understand well, but love it. Just like usually, I love everything from you! and sorry for no communication with you, because I almost forget my English writing.
I miss you, my brother. There’s a whole continent between us. Perhaps one day I’ll follow the old Silk Road, then cross that strait to your door.
Welcome!
So good to keep seeing you here.