Looking back from a deep mountain stream
Leading to a garden of peach blossoms
In the waste land a few orchids
Are growing.
A splinter of sadness dances boisterously.
The breath of a chilly alien
His heart is withered in the alley.
Allusion without yelling out.
A sharp scalpel spreads an order of ether
In a sicked stains leaves with blue.
A child the playground empty
In the fallen ivy leaves,
The child nestles in its
Mother's bosom wearing
An unlined summer jacket.
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This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
good poem. I enjoyed it. thanks. I invite you to read my poems and comment.