Roof
Kind
In
Rain
Cruel
In
The
Summer
Boiling
I
Heard
The
Drops
Of
Blood
In
To
The
Night
I
Saw
The
Signs
To
Me
Of
Old
Starlight
I
Read
In to
The
Heavens
Just
As
In
A
Book
And
I
Heard
Voices
Read
To
Me
But
Then
I
Am
A
Poet Seer
Yet
All
of
us
will
be Poet Seers
if
only
we
will
so.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I have two reactions to this poem. The first involves the apocalyptic quality of this evocation of the summer rainy season, when nature pounds its power into our minds by means of natural energies released and seemingly out of control. That's one reaction but my second reaction swept that first one aside. It's the reference to one of your familiar personae - the POET SEER. What a generous gift to your readers, acknowledging them as Poet Seers if they are willing to take on the role. I will have more to say about this! !