The wanton frost
In winter its blood warms
In the congealment of icicles
In the numbing of bodies
So many other ….
So many other …
As the peripati
They
They walked through the frozen
Glass
And the smoke-filled room
Of the hubbub of voices
For
The wanton frost
In winter its blood warms
In the congealment of icicles
In the numbing of bodies
So many other ….
So many other …
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem