It was chaotic, disorderly and full of houses
That swung and ran to the feet of their mad kindness.
The treads were too narrow for them
To place their whole bulk on them,
Soaring above the skies of green and dark
Blue, that the staying sea supplied
To the depths of desire.
If I’d seen that scene I would have anticipated
The next scene burrowing in nonexistence,
This paradox we call the world of words.
For the building there was a ground level,
Such bipeds and tripods erected their designing
Air, with existence and non-existence.
It was so chaotic in the air,
They would have brought more merchandise,
More non-enterprise and more thought for the
Thoughtful.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem