of course, they would have been
roundly raconteured
had they
not decided to
lean like squabs in the vestry....
their other accomplishments paled..
and
the essential vagaries of the claret-stained finches were heard...
pluto waxed waggish,
the polebeans vaulted
and
the trilubricants went missing.....
it was only after
thunder bolted that a hush fell into a myrtle-flanked tarn...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem