Flooded Landscape.
A landscape lies flat.
Curves, hollows,
Tussocks, fences,
Rolled by an obese weight
of water. That fell like nails
hammered into the earth.
Now we are but flecks
upon a mirror. Stubborn marks
where silvering has rubbed through.
Clouds reflect
an unending metallic plain.
Pierced only by spires,
huddled island communities.
Sharp black spikes
of mud-trapped trees.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem