Birds of crayons and
Water snakes,
Unlearned birds in the
Firebreaks;
And otherwise the wheels of the
Sky are-
They are a long shot over ever
Getting dry,
But they spin and they put off
Spit;
They go a long ways between
You and this:
While the pastels surcease like
Busted lips,
And still all I have to give you
Is this to make up for
Everything gone into the sky.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem