Dim gray early morning light,
Shrill birds singing through the open window
In a wild declaration of life,
As the woman's voice outside
Grows yet more animated and provides
Self-iterating human counterpoint
To the sound of the birds, various words
That make no sense to the sleeper awake
Now in his bed, listening to all this.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem