Softly, displaying what it means—
Not drunk enough to do any better—
It rains in Shanghai,
Each droplet containing the toxicity of
A fairy holding her breath on Mars—
I watch Lost in Translation
For a little while
And make love to my wife until
She comes—
I am proud for a little while with out
Thirteen month son lying beside us,
And his little brother or sister
Already contemplating for two
Months in his or her
Mother’s belly—
With all of the complications of Plato’s
Ultimate form they are certain
To forget about
Once they awakened to the unbelievable
Carnival of this broken mirror world.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem