Ticket to ride
gleaming menagerie
lead painted childhood beckons.
She climbs aboard the gallant steed
as the tinkering melody plays.
Whirling lights in a circular world,
Music screaming
laughter
speed spinning in carousel chaos,
clinging to brass
as gravity's arms tug
outward
then
slowly slowing
slowing
stop.
She slides down, dizzy
glaring at the man.
Through tobacco-stained breath
and a slit of a smile
his rasp flies beyond her -
'It was you who chose the stallion.'
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Vivid description of a merry-go-round and carnival guy. The last line suggests a whole other level, as you're probably aware.: -)