While at Midnight I am sitting upon the wooden bench in my park. br The green grass, tired on a day's journey, now sleeping... br Along with him, sleeping all the souls, br Who share the same park, the same complex. br The sound of sleep is calming like a morn prayer, br Resonant in some ways, br That touches the mind, not an ear! br The cool air in this November is fetish, br Breezes soft and sweet with fragrance of a night flower, br Whispering to my ears br With wishes so pure, so sublime! br Who knows such simple inward desire even? br Except the stars- so lovely, so curious! br Watching me sitting alone, br While they are keepers of a silent night. br A lovely night with azure sky, br Silent Moon in full bloom, br Of beams perfumed wavy, br Kissing my eyelids soft and warm. br br I struggle to find my identity here, br Like my body, my senses, my presence, br Separate from my around. br Dews on grass weave rhapsodies with Moonbeams.