the volunteering kings and queens
enrobe behind a chequered screen
a bishop's caught in traffic
just outside the gate
and knights whose pennons snag the branches of the trees
where hunched-backs on fold-up chairs
crouching ill at ease
pawns not up for yet another fight
dispersed to benches
in the fading winter light
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem