Toby found the circus by listening hard for its music and following the tune till the day after tomorrow. Usually it travelled by night, led by girls with lanterns. As he followed, he marked the ruts in the road. Hurrying on, he saw the great wheels rolling and heard their musical creak. He tried not to tread on its long, blue shadow. At daybreak the caravan halted. Then the horses were folded and stacked away like blankets. The tents went up and he heard the ropes hiss and the shouts of roustabouts as the circus unfurled like an edge of Palermo. Day after day, the same. Once, he lifted the flap, slipped in and, looking up, studied the high canopy that blocked the sky.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem