from ruthless deeds
to place where
the devil is absent
rambling soul
settled down
under the mountain
wrapped up by
the merciful serpent
unaware of wrath
calling himself
a poet from Siberia
he planted rusty nails
and bred odd stories
the astonished evening
found friend in barrens
where heirloom sank
during the muddy supper
and his weary shoes
walk by themselves
under the lead sky
ring in the clock tower
when electric quest
starts with the blackout
it's time to confess
to be merely mortal
behold! the solitude
of indistinct fable
leads to tranquility
but never to treasure
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem