untitled

into a cold night
I spoke aloud but the voice was
no voice I knew

Otsuji
(1881-1920)

By plucking her petals, you do not gather the beauty of the flower. 

Rabindrath Tagore



Beauty Has No Home


there is no cradle
for the birth of beauty

there is no tomb
for the death of beauty

the field of white snow
the field of white flowers

beauty has no home
or resting place




An Old Soldier

an old soldier
does not sing

his heart is the grave
where his song lies

in silence
never forgotten

the whispering wind

came and went

over the frozen river
he left behind

long ago
far away


Suchoon Mo
This Website Built and Hosted for Free at Bravenet.com

Web Hosting · Blog · Guestbooks · Message Forums · Mailing Lists
Allwebco Web Templates · Build your own toolbar · Site Building Articles · Audio, Fonts, Clipart
powered by a free webtools company bravenet.com