When the noon sun's thirst
sucks shadows up
and, in the berg wind's high
summer tide, heat
laps this poised finger of land
when honey-thick the air
hums orange and furry
and fruit on orchard trees
pendulously waxes
heart-full
sluggish as blurred light
every ticking
moment my shadow stretches
eagerly eager-
ly towards the slanting light.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem