He was more STORM then he was person
the curtain of skin, contained
the hurricane
the curtain of skin, concealed
the turmoil
and all this he hid behind the clean composure of his person
none could tell
none could hear the thunder
far enough, even a storm is undiscerned
none could dare or care come close to the tumult
but she
and how great a storm was she
the tempest that uprooted him
by the trill of her laugh alone
close enough, the storm has a stable center
she did not overpower him
nor did she let loose her own WILDNESS
two storms converge to greater winds
suspended in wispy heaven
they laugh
how petty it was to have stayed so long
in the center of the hurricane
and to let waste the wild winds
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem