How could they go on believing
that on ice, that was formed overnight,
piano and bed would hold;
not that they float, they enter
the day like their room,
watch the news, take a trip
and continue like others before them,
ducks on overnight ice.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Well thought out and nicely penned with conviction. An insightful creation. Thanks for sharing Ed.