This is just to say
That I bought the most beautiful cards
On my trip
Of the Roman theater
And the lighthouse in the harbor
But I was only gone three weeks
And the first week I was too confused
And the second week I never saw the Poste
And the third week I thought, hell
I'll beat the postcards home
One day I saw in the rearview mirror
The ancient city of Carcassone
Squatting on a hilltop like a soft turban
My eyes beheld the glory
Thinking of you
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem