it is on top of a cliff
it is an eagle's nest
there is a red egg
in the middle of those
blue eggs
there is no eagle
anymore that flies there
anymore
the blue eggs spoil
there is nothing there
the blue egg
cracks
my heart still sings
the blues
the clouds listen for a while
then they cry
the way the rain falls on the plains
then they drift away
the blue egg cracks
and shall be silent for a while
until the black eagle comes
and takes it back
to the place where it must be
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem