A black stripe towards a horizon
Drawn in misted grey and vermillion
Fading into lusterless swirls on
A canvass drawn too taut on
a frame warped by weather;
Malice on an envious brow.
A fork of lightening in nimbus
Luminescent curves of embers
Glowing in falling timbres
Prone to window rattling shudders
As what has been done passes;
Anger throbbing for the wronged.
Blueberries and cream, a strawberry
On sugar plate sweet drowning
In a moment of forbidden taste,
Spiny cactus on a tongue frowning
In blood drawn in innocence;
The sweetness become bitter.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem