Curse our heliocentric existence!
Curtailed cortices
cast stale, semeny sensations
over subtle senses.
We wish for a cup of refreshing jasmine tea with Ptolemy,
whose piquant perspiration caused offenses
and jammed the skulkingly sleek jaguar senses
of exotic tea leaf sniffers labouring
in the limiest languid sun.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem