i
they are singing
paddling the boats that we are riding
following the path of a river
that shows us
old houses made of stones
we pass the bridge
where once the famous
Chinese painter
brushed
water colors for the
emperor
ii
for a fee
we have given them work
we are the tourists and they are
singing
if only we can understand the lyrics
of their old serenade
a la Venice
we could have realized
how stupid we are...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem