Egret in a tree in a parking lot
Word starting out,
First candle on a bonfire overlooking
The Christmas trees and giving them
Your shadow
And you stare as the thunderstorms
Give pearls to your shadow.
The tourists drive around you like
Wild persimmons,
Giving you their caracoles,
Dreaming that they were flutes.
The waves joust
And sometimes they become tears
Let down by gravity like grapevines for
The city that stands at your back but is too
Frightened to approach you—
And the airplanes take off, the stars
Bathing in your shoulders.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem