1. The Aged Ones
Who will accept
The gift of slow pathos
Borne by the aged ones
In public spaces?
On a green day
On a mindless park bench,
They sit almost within
Stinking reach of death,
While all around them
Perambulated babies
Pinken the suckling air.
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Printed in The NY Herald Tribune, Paris,
Jan.4,1965
2. At the Ballet in Lausanne
The ballerina's big toe
Drilled a hole in the floor.
The dancer clapped his lofted legs
Scissoring the air,
We clapped our hands like merry hell
And hacked the music dead.
- - - - -
Printed in The NY Herald Tribune, Paris,
Oct.22,1964
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem