in Valletta
there be people with blue
eyes
there be people with golden hair
but most be of black hair
In Valletta
if you be shown
you will go underground
in the grueling city below
the city that burns in its asphalt
with sun and the soles of the
shoes of the thousands
that walk to and fro
In Valletta
a centaur sits at night
on a bastions
for few minutes
then goes:
and all this
since they brought the
Horse of Three Whole Legs
and placed it on the stone
in Valletta
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem