You soaked your words
in ancient wine,
that you did not inherit from a fortunate ancestry;
it was distilled drop by drop
between the tallness
of your considerate senses
and the greatness of a quiet evening;
and that was the realm
where you prowled words
and manifested a unique dexterity
and craft of solvability of words
in that liquor fermented in your deep bosom
before you give it to the light
while you kicked away the buttocks
of a false lover
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Hello Poet! I need news poems to read! ! ! ! How about? ? ? ?