Connection
Being drugged, drunk with the
Forms of the birds when flying
And, The beauty of their wings
And, the heaviness of shadows
The shapes and changes in rose
The smell, Of pure dust, in rain
This is connection with mother
The Earth, great mother of cells
My resting place; my final love
And, these started with women
The dangerous, curves, of Eve
Who is the cause, lost paradise
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem