Her portrait became a still life
Age shall not weary her
Time moved on, life moved on
Everybody moved on
She became born again
She was resurrected as a desert Fish
With the persona of her mother
Each sentence was finished with a sigh
She spoke a strange language
A Mother tongue from the land of Venus
His shed was built on Mars
It was empty and had no soul
The Spirit that lived within had died
He came from the land down under
He loved her, he told her
She turned her back, left a black hole
He loved and wept again
His life had become a desert
With water and wild with flower
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I prefer the novel of the same name