The afternoon was striving
without a sound
in the happy realm of its high clouds,
conjugating
shimmerings and shudderings,
rhyming
the tenuous vibrations
of the world,
when I
saw the poem put together on the heights
reflected here,
in rhythms, patterns, structures
of a syntax bringing forth bright
airy things - like wind and light.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem