Slim hands..hang down..
from the sky..
and now your..
summers spent....
Fields of white and red...
and heads bowed down....
and blinking weepy eyes.....
Red poppies....off white
The milk all mixed....
and Tan hands that never quit...
and...) restless pumping
till the last dropps of milk
are pressed out (..and sleep
steals across the land....and..
minds are pumped as wells...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem