Under the black ocean of the sky,
upon a white plain,
crimson rivers flow.
The ceaseless rain,
falling in torrents,
goes unheard.
Beneath the surface,
lies a nest,
where scorpions crawl,
upon poisoned earth.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Such a nice poem, Darren Huston. You may like to read my poem, Love And Iust. Thank you.