Shadows move among them,
amorphous like the wind
whispering in tranquility,
and twittering in unison
a harmonious cry
among the dead and the dying.
Unmindful of the waxing and waning
of the moon
their carrion minds
dance effortlessly on a barbed fence
sepulchral vigilantes watching closed eyes
never to see the light of day again:
a crow's heart only knows
recluse of dark places.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem