I suppose you are lying- the sky so wide
It drapes the rivers and the places
Where people lie
Beside the traffic where light is moving;
It is a zoetrope of businesses- haven’t you
Seen it before in this kind of light.
The antelope are stargazing- they almost
Seem to be frightened
As they stumble out of the forest covering
The arrowheads- as the planes tip in
The sky,
Soon they will be touching down in a
City of red slumbers-
And the people will come stirring out,
Swearing that they will do some good.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem