Sweeping flowers are curbed

Slighted shadowy ones 

Flow - out - reviving

Anxiety of June

Just changing the look a little bit

The world as if be right keeps silence 

For such cold reticence

Resistance was ever used up

The deceived dead have been piled up 

That’s the course of the world

So 

Your defeat 

Is marked

Once discovered in remains  

Or to be discovered some day or other

Humankind-like matters for which

You try to right it many times 

Such pitiful revolutions

In the final line of prayers in a Cathedral

Or in the shadows of an Old Temple

As a piece of the relating histories

Left behind there but dimly

Common records - just become

In such a way

Toward the determined defeat

Pushing you whispering and murmuring

The smooth-faced crowds of criticism

And the lines of negligence in words

Have heaped most in the Asian City where

My - this being too

Trying to turn into your shape

Or collapsing over and over again

The fragile steps - is leaving bare