May I stand with my pride
With my chin held so high
May I place my feelings in your heart
To keep them cold and fresh
They get to warm beneath my clouds
Reaching a scorching eighty five
But they will hold steady your negative nine
And as my days roll through
I still turn to you
Squinting the pain
And pretending to pick at the stain
Never thought words would be the median
Between the deadly oaks and the far blue
And the words behind that white line will render you blind
Squeeze your heart until it is dry
Take seat inside a lion’s eye
With wind blowing the main
Leading the pride just behind
Our words clash in mid air
And I think yours always kiss mine
A feeble distraction of course
Before the deadly oaks take my time
Windows place blue squares in our rooms
I think to help us remember who we really came from
Would our memories still jump if they weren’t there?
And I liked being born into the green
Nature, innateness, my skin is for you
For as long as you hold your blue
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem