Sunny dry dirt that covers the road and streets,
Seemslike lying down. Who cares what happens
To the clothes and what time is it.
This is where the road starts,
And goes a long way.
Eyes that fall for it. For those streets
And sun. The mighty sunlight. Those cars,
People walking. Far away a train line at the intersection.
Steel shining and the aged body wants to sit,
For a while. Love and dirt on the streets and the
Pavement seems to call for sleep. Dryness and dirt,
And the dying body and dead leafs of those trees,
And things like this which are dead and
Comfortably at slumber will....
not..ask... for...help.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
love and dirt on the street, good one