'Caliban Commenting On Our Book,
NEW SAYINGS'
To lurk drunk to work
Or pot giddy about the Lord
And circle the living fire outside,
To slide by many destroyed
And dream of a sleek heaven,
And live admiring the cradle you fit in,
Farewell throat of the island.
Bloom, bloom pretty climate,
The kings and queens access the burn,
Wander into a nonsense reality impatient.
Periods thin the sprit.
Death's white words.
Talking wisdom, imperfect serpent parents
Bottomed out their once rich feelings
No desires to read,
Rendering a Miltonic poetical countryside,
The travelling fun poet Mothering soul
Only to the eternal lie - eternity right,
That life's arrows hand me,
To pay the fountain of the day,
And the day's fountain avoided,
Angel laughter atop the mountain,
The scattered smoky camp of a poem
In the spirit of thin simplicities!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem