All laid low in the patio of sun: after school and in the sun
Then the day is green populated by her dresses,
And if the day is green, how you swim across him like a dream
Thought of by the busses who have removed you from
Me once again; but I will see you once again tomorrow, if I don’t
Skip school again,
To think of you while scooping the silver roe with my hands,
Scooping up the tinsel of minnows, watched by the horned rimmed
Stares so crocodilian that they should not care how I miss you
And think of you on and on, perpetually and again.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem