As the sun in frenzy dances
on his children golden flakes casting
and in ecstasy, they yell, hail
as their heads, festively he drums.
At his diurnal journey's height slacking, pausing.
At his children in heat peering, gazing.
In itchy fashion, he instructively caresses them
of his hallowed golden presence, reminding them.
A hungry angry being, obeisance he demands.
As his subjects uncaring, he fierily reprimands.
For his golden curtain, they lack appreciation
Tunics they pull off, in apologetic supplication.
While the sun eats them up
his children circle, celebrating his power.
He to obstinates casts scorchy glares;
writhing, gyrating, to Earth they fast.
21-07-04
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem