Fake Poem by Gert Strydom
Fake
Today I float through the sky
falling right through
to the ground with wind in my eye
tumbling down the dark blue hue
and while the wind sings
its own melody
without any wings
the earth rushes nearer to me
until I draw the string
and the parachute opens slamming
and like on a seesaw I swing
with the sun warming
my whole body, the earth rushing
nearer embracing, just before the landing.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/26/2024 4:33:50 AM # 1.0.0.1119
