Look, a faceless house wife
Has dusted the sky
All starwebs high above
She said freedom was the host
But she could not twinkle
She said night was her foe
But she couldn’t paint it
She said journey was far taken
But she couldn’t move
She said
Bone burdened dust I say it is time
For a moon sickle to re-invent a circle
Or to cut the knots of planets
Spilling all the comets that fell for their wishes
Thus wished she
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem