As if oozing from the the edges of
fissures.
Couldn't get beyond the stains.
Sitting in a soft garden, in a semi-circle.
In the tiny crack between truth
and falsity.
(Translated by Michael Castro and Gábor G. Gyukics)
Interesting poem; usually we don't think of gardens and semi circles as places with tiny cracks……these are whole settings. But the twist on perspective and proportion makes for a more intriguing poem.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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