A frosty arid where moss went hay
On sunny winter; be stay
Beside two roads a mice just stare
Into my glossy-pegged arm chair.
Peals of rainfall reaply sway
Through daylight gale stood gay
O’er hurricane musketeers got there
To steal tulips, rose and beer
Sinking hook and line, the fishermen say
Abruptly, asp and boarfish must pay
Even oars of women don’t care
Whether pestilence strikes a tear
Tongue-tied in plasmodium in this sandy bay
All this days often break in May.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem