Above the river
by a troupe of yew
a tower broods
in crumbling light.
Burning rust
on an iron bell
glows in the sun
like the color of fox.
A sundial lurks
in a pool of moss,
lifting its blade,
a bearded fin.
A barge of shadows
pleats the river,
hunting rumors
of custodial sea.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem