Even the shadows
are dried to the bone
their whiskers sparse and brown
With no dewdrops to moisten their throats
birds won't come to the window
to chirp
to waken dreams
to inspire
Holding a dried-up pen
the poet stares at the blank sky
where not a single trace of cloud
is in sight
No tears of joy
are expected
anytime
soon
The Chinese version:
干旱季节
连影子
都被晒得瘦骨嶙峋
胸前飘着的几根胡须
也疏落焦黄
没有露水润喉
鸟儿不再来窗前
叽喳
扰人清梦
挑拨灵感
握着一支干涸的笔
诗人眼睁睁瞪着
空无一物的
天空
别期望
这样的日子
会有喜极而泣的
雨
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
The poet stares at the blank sky; waiting for words. Nice work.
Thank you for your kind comments.