First
A far thud
Then the rocket
Climbs the air
A dull red flare
To hang, a moment,
Invisible, before
Its black shell cracks
And claps against the ears
Breaks and billows
Into bloom
Spilling down clear green sparks
Gold spears
Silent sliding silver waterfalls
And stars
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem