Translated by Wendy Cross

She lies down, stretching out across the trunk of a walnut tree cut during the spring.All that's left of its bark are a few shreds, gradually withering away. With her back resting between two branches, she gazes at the clear sky of the mid-August night. Perhaps a shooting star will trace its curve in the dark sky, studded with glowing light. She will not hesitate to make a spontaneous wish; her head is full of them.Deep in thought, lulled by the sway of the warm breeze, a soft smile spreads across her peaceful face. Tonight, Nature is winking at her and cradling her in its arms. A far-off nigh

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