lovers hand in hand stroll September away
fully protected gear they deploy
to prove their love endless and mature
do clilmb my ribs so broken,
they're in tatters. the easterlies disturb my eloquence,
obliquely they attack and stretch my appearance
too bad for an eye. they position
their sharp daggers slightly askew
and thrust them across your view
away the silver summer rains do wash my pedigree
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem