When old ghosts appear in new costume
When the tree falls on my head
And the acorn rolls far away
My vision turns double and I can’t sleep.
The noise inside my brain rattles
Old skeletons emerge in bony form
Brittle and fragile the head feels
Toss and turn at night restless.
A split pea inside the cerebral cortex
Buzzes around like a bee in its beehive
Seeking a mate to devour and savor
While old ghosts continue to spook.
It was a grand slam.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem