He was shoveling sand
at the edge of the water, his heavy black glasses
glittered with rain:
"Don't you see how much like a woman I am?"
His throat was wrapped in water,
and the water flowered with milt.
Shoveler, are you eating the earth?
Earth eating you?
what I have to have
to live in this country.
And he, as calm as calm, though he was dead:
"Oh,—milt,—and we're all of us milt."
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem
Look how easily she set up character and scene- -many prose writers would do well to study this and learn- - -] He was shoveling sand at the edge of the water, his heavy black glasses glittered with rain: