Every Violin Poem by ion untaru
Every Violin
with a squeaqy violin
concerto, nobody in
beauty weather for a rain
through a belly of a horse
monday better, tuesday worse
oh my lady, oh my lady
what's the use to reach the herd,
if the wolf are always ready?
they run in all directions
you get in a turned lair
as scanning vice versa landscape
no kind of escape
no foods, no air
what a dispair!
(translated from romanian)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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4/26/2024 5:01:54 AM # 1.0.0.1119
