***In the dark, still sleeping house
a ray of sun - orange and dusty, falls aslant on the wall -
as if a moon lane.
Vulnerable to the slightest whiff of wind, trembling like
a bird's feather
tangled in the twigs -
the light sinks for an instant and again gushes
with the previous brightness.
Then timorously, bit by bit, but in a way resolved
dies out the wall.
tr. by Hristianna