The petals of the flower have crinkled.
The crest of the apple has slanted,
Its peduncle having relaxed.
There’re cuts littered on fleshy stem.
The burrow was bored to bring a stream
of sap.
The cortex was torn, latex oozing.
Not that a tree is in destruction
but that a virgin is in consummation.
25.05.2001, Pmdi
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem