A Sort Of A Poem Upon Arriving At The Mountain Hut Poem by RIC BASTASA
A Sort Of A Poem Upon Arriving At The Mountain Hut
where it is? the native points to the place
using his nose. It is just near he said while chewing his betel nut.
we pass three winding rivers
and five hills on footpaths with mud and grass as tall as us along the way.
we finally arrive at the foot of a hill
below it a nipa hut
there is no one there
i curl up and take my sleep
meanwhile the fog swallows everything
just us.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/19/2024 3:05:42 AM # 1.0.0.1119
