of snow statistics
word for herbs
the waters of discord
and the round sows
the thief with knife between
his teeth
held:
waters
waters
waters
my mouth is dry
for waters
berries and buds
public sales outrages
of sun and moon
stars in the offing
harbors sheltered
Circe wave currents
trembling
in warm snows vibrating
burning
burning
snows
geriatrics of the landscapes
no reply after seven days
and
not an acknowledgement:
he stopped old mariner
that he was
with white-browed eyes
thick and uncomfortable
yet there:
you respond asserting.
lips red and pasted
with the tastes of
twilight waters
in deep wells and cool
where heard
the chants of the old monks
fat
the chorus of the lizards
squeaking
from their respective hiding-places.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem