We fell into the dark moon,
And came out the only side,
A single red sunflower;
The outcast women weren't green but camp;
We loved the water, pillared gypsum.
I craved insect repellent.
Lack of flesh was repulsive,
So we walked, never assuming
That we didn't know the laws,
Or slipped on our twisted stem,
When a trig ballerina came into view.
Gladly joining her, We took our shoe off.
This flora, empty of earthly substance,
Assumed the position of a black dot on a color grid.
All the cities are finished!
No more steeples on the rocks, people always have feared,
Another array of lights, Another sector of sphere,
That we wish we could have danced on a little longer.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem