another day scuffles
along scarcity
along empty wells
and layers of sand
I flutter my eyes
against the burning
of the glaring sun
and through the slits
you fell
barefoot child
with rusted kettle
in your hand
a bundle of sticks
in a yellow dress
laughing
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A great poem conjuring beautiful images in the reader's smile! Now I want to smile like I am doing now forever thanks to your fantastic healing poem! May posterity guide your hand to continue writing true majestic poems! Dankie tot dusver in alle tye.