You can have fantasy

If you love me, you can have cute fantasy.
Make a white horse out of my ugly donkey.
Turn my run-down shack into a beautiful palace.
Let my rags become a fabulous ball-dress.

A nameless man passing by you
is transformed into a prince by your eyes.
An invisible man loitering around you
is transfigured into a special man by your cares.

Ah! Do not shatter your fantasy.
Your fantasy is
my daily bread,
my real clothes,
my only shelter,
my ever-lasting life.

When you fantasy wears a thick shell and
becomes my unbreakable fantasy,
you can get out of the fantasy and
watch the reality with ecstasy.

Don’t Crush My Mind of Love

You I love!
Don’t crush my mind of loving you.
My love is my most precious treasure.

You I love!
Don’t put my love in a flower vase to watch.
This love is my daily bread.

You I love!
Don’t boast of being loved.
I am living in deep pain because of this love.

You I love!
Don’t ridicule my love.
This love is all of my life.

You I love!
Don’t doubt my love.
I don’t want anything from you.

You I love!
Don’t enjoy being loved too much.
My love might turn into hatred.

You I love!
Won’t you love too?
The joy of loving is far greater than
The joy of being loved.


Where is he from?
(Who would care?)
The man who is sitting opposite to me
Is eating breakfast with great enthusiasm,
Which he maybe picked up from Macdonald.
(Perhaps from different place…who would care?)

I am reading a book of poetry with elegant posture
(If poetry were elegant…)
After one poem,
I watch the breakfast that is being eaten enthusiastically.
And after another poem
I watch the man who is eating impassionedly.
And after another poem
I look around the idle Saturday morning.
(If Saturday were idle…)

If I had been eating poems
With great enthusiasm like his,
Maybe right at this time,
At this garage for commoners
My book of poetry would be being read elegantly.
(if my poems were elegant…)
What a fantasy for me and/or poetry?!