Being borne up by the wind
high into the sky I am afloat
I seed each cloud
that plays a part to quench
a mouth on fire below around
full lips that are.
And stretched apart receding
smoke thats white
across red clay hands spread
through open mouths of rocky coast
a waving sea of grass
and green it is.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem