Shy light is reflected
in raindrops, with which
an autumn sparkles from the summer.
Sluggish the day begins,
reluctantly lets go of the night and
stretches for a long, long time.
"What is that, love?" asks your/ my heart
and dies; he reaches out to the deep
and lonely, after death,
and he's not certain.
Beauty lies in the pearls of drops,
vanishing along the window.