Cristobal Obregon
23 March 2013 ·
Autumn wind in the forest, the weeds hide her clothes
the vine surrounds the white marble sculptureof hermes
On his head a crown of myrtle,
Birds nest in the mirtles
The clouds move
The sun shines,
The tarmack shines, i rub salt in your wound.
We go to the mountain to kiss
The birds fly round
REd, blue, and purple flowers, blooming
on an island in the middle of the lake
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem