Rivers wept
quiet across the plains.
Tell me your secrets
and I will keep them forever,
voices that slither along the winds.
Their truth all too clear,
Even when the days had dawned to dusk,
fields filled with them.
the hours that manifest
Pounding.
Chimera lions,
Once there to shield off their echoes
for a feasting of hearts.
The tribes would dance there
with too many feathers
heaving their hair
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem