that afternoon the skies are red
as tulips
the emotions however are like
stones
gray and dry
the world is sac-like
and one wonders
if music as a harmony
within the heart of
solitude
can still jibe
come to think about it
the active element
is still you
work it out then like
a piece of art
a sculpture of rivets
a canvass of smoke
a poem about chalk
and erasers,
diverse, reverse, collide
like water molecules
in sulfuric acid
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem