Lost poem on a rope
So it is not really lost:
It is just a child not allowed to
Stray-
Airplanes I once knew are leaping through
Her bedroom;
The sky is Grey anyways
And my imagination has turn e d to buying
Another house-
There she is in the yard where you supposed
She was-
The lant er n's light slips.
The heavens are clouded by another morning.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem