with trumpets sounding
banners unfurled
we approach the bridge
give way to the night-coach
the river is the divide
we cross to the other side
make our mark on the stone
a nod, a gesture
to the gatehouse
in the poster-peeling wall
and from somewhere
fragments of suspicion
and resistance to it all
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem