O cold tingly morning,
don't stand and stare at me,
with those strangely shaped eyes.
Not only you lie,
But he just doesn't die.
Three blows to the head,
A Robot.
Motionless in the horizon.
Shining, glinting matress, crystal
Burning metal.
Crackling in the afternoon mist,
I don't understand, what I have missed.
Message from Jones,
Emergency room filled.
Dead sky that is blue,
with the blood of enemies.
He makes his entrance,
into the night.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem