The fire truck stopped
The door bell buzzed (just in time)
The explosion ripped off the side of the mountain.
Out stepped the desire to communicate.
--What is my name?
--What is my name?
Was heard drifting o'er the valley
And later,
--What am I doing here?
And,
--What is a valley?
And,
--What is 'drifting'?
(The desire to communicate had become
Question
...............Following
...............................Question)
In your quiet neighborhood,
Does it still drift?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem