Lights in dark,
a turning plough;
tube of tin and roar
with faces in a
box, high above
cold woods, fields and streams
and real life.Sinews below
rest and firm,
eyes turn to heaven
and the prison
of bad air, mocked angel,
packed life.
And should they
fall from the sky,
there is a kinship in distress.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Lights in dark should fall from sky. Wonderful imagery really with in with nice humour. Fantastic poem.