the liar in winter,
cold
on the cafe floor....
sawdust and bananas,
the bane of his boon...
six pants
for
the article...
other
hills,
like
green elephants
with
perforated clouds for ears,
rued the nights,
sluiced the daze....
spilled leopard's tears
and
held the monkey's ground....
a pancake for your thoughts, my dear.....
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem