Then look at it and needing a loaf of bread
and sharp cheese
but made a step stained behind it
central red ink I say to you
Since lost was the verbal accounts
of the victim of the truth reiterated in extenuation
another secretes of poetry exposed like Composer's
callused pads on finger tips, harps and guitars
pink sonnets like transparencies like the silk panties
that I used sell you to wear, chained too nipple rings
while their need for the poets to indicate these small
realities, Since largest each caused they whom
discoverer crumpled used the bloody ones
patched up moon holds it/it knows all it sees you feel
waves always undulating the foamy sea in motion
clear red ink there worn out in the same colors spot.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem