the sun, the shade,
the delights of a glade,
the humming of a mill
worthy
the earth with sucking
cranberries
sucking the milk and sap
from roots of Mother Earth.
as the play grows
more and more to the end
as the barricades in the streets
go up
signals of the coming fights
and final tragedy
let me once more
even just one more
in pining in a red dusk
delight
then take me to the fighting
my blood
be ready for the shedding
my eyes
on the tragedy
for closing
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem