A sun setting on a wintry horizon,
A red sun,
Leaden clouds,
Pierced by bundles of lights,
And me, a peasant child,
Overwhelmed by night.
Our car was devouring the asphalt thread,
Climbing from our village to the city,
And I wish to hurl myself
Onto the moist verdure.
A sun setting on a wintry horizon,
A magic castle,
A gate of light
Opening on a time of legend,
The palm of a hand stained with henna,
A peacock ascending through the heavens,
Its rainbow tail spread out.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem