The air was forced due to the delivered album
Singing in the blue air, the bleeding artery was to blame.
Babies bleed, as for the apples, and the pears,
Singing their melody of pain and harmony.
Then their breath is enforced by better women
Of motherly milk, alphabets resound in the head.
The air is forced due to the process of the word,
My balloon creates an army of colours to mount,
I already endeavoured to place apples into mouths.
Singing was sowing the arts of the melody and pain,
Babies bled from the pain of the songs so sacred,
Then they recognised arms and legs before their days.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem