In
The bay of echoes
There are small coves
And caves
Not a large bay
But how many
The caves and
Coves!
You will not
Whisper
But
Hear the coves
And caves
Chirping
And
Uttering.
Not even a reed
The humblest grass
Will escape
From the orchestra
Of spies and
Informers:
A rustling of lizard
And
The screeching of a snail
Will be reported.
And if a Poet Seer
Coming by
Determines to chant
And sing?
Ah! then
There will be another
Hell
But not of burning fires
But
Of
Burning voices
Or just
Let’s assert:
Another Babel
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem