A broken wheel leaning against the wall ;
All day long thinks over the way crossed,
How giz-path, how zag-path, ditchs, bumps, dust, clay
Now sees wheels running on the way, none cares.
At night the wheel gets back movement
Rolls to the nearby pond down
Whirling in the water ;
Then it's circumference emits sparks.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem