As if the road does belong to them alone
they come next to each other in threes
and even on as four riders,
with bright coloured T-shirts
short pants
and like a woman their legs shaven smooth.
The spokes glitter, the wheels sing
and they ride straight through the traffic
only aware of the road and the journey
as if there is something magic
in riding a bicycle.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem