Black confetti of evening fiesta
before dancing clouds,
the elixir of kites...
Happy kites of unmolested fraternity
the goodwill of the evening, in gales of blessings
come mightily upon your hairless brows and adds cunning
to your keen lenses for the hunt below.
But does this fraternity thrive in a single swoop only?
Tom-toms ululate the presence
Of winged souls, black and ageless, rejoicing from the
Aftermath of Amazonian incense.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem