Notice the place where I've fallen
Cold and dead
On an old, old tree:
The grass shares its soil
With weeds and worms
Burrowing through
The height of its roots;
A morgue across
Taking in dead bodies
Deciphered in accidents:
A playground visible
With street children
Singing nursery rhymes
Detestable of meaning.
Not a sign
Nor symbol
Of my bearings.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem