not much is moving in his art
that's what a still life does
a curious museum piece
a bee without a buzz
that isn't all that troubles me
about this bowl of fruit
there is no rumble in the sky
and poetry is mute
was it a picnic he had planned
perhaps in hopeful youth
to speak of stillness I suppose
like destiny and truth
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem