Clouds through the eye of a needle,
Cross-stitching fluffy-puff blue
In Day's frame...no stingy winds...
All directions charitably magnanimously
Embroidering shadows on the Sun.
Running hems on Light's skirts.
Later. Later, Night's seams will tight-fit
Her Earth bodice, and the Mother will
Snip threads of the Daylight, carefully
Re-threading with Dawn...waiting to
Tat-lace Night.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Nice one - Fluffy-puff blue is just so...fluffy. What is Tat-lace? Hello again...new stuff all round.