Poets must be stoic as a tree
rooted in coastal chalk-rock
ravaged bent in one direction.
Willing as a lightening-rod
to burst into fires free.
There is but one love triangle
between him earth sea and sky
that is where he'll climb and drill
that is where he'll dive and swim
that is where he'll fly and dream
till his circle of life has completed
That inward, outward, ripple.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Well done. I enjoyed that.