Through
Out
The
Cone
Of
The
Weak
Moon
Shining
Thousands
Of
Silent
Bats
a-gliding
a
woman
of
giant
proportions
on
an
ancient
rock
mourning
on
the
face
of
the
waters
multitudes
of
silver
diamond
vessels
what
night.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem