Sunbathing
Because my hands are cold
I move towards the place of the bold
It is this pastime of old
Moving to a mold
I take off my clothes, go crass
And lay myself on the grass
There is so much light
I begin to take my flight
Swimming under the sun
Having so much fun
Me and my silent shadow
Contemplating deep to the marrow
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem