Midnight lies with its head over the edge of the moon
Like a ghostly balloon
It has caught the sickness of un-ease
Poisoning the twiggy woods
Owls like pale chrysanthemums
Peep from the purdah of trees
Faded footprints melt like rain in a cloudburst
My forebears are lost for words
In the straitjacket of their graves
From the corner of my eye I see an aunt
Blue lipped in her cornflower shroud
Like wool unravelling in the eiderdown of earth
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Midnight lies with its head over the edge of the moon life a ghostly balloon nice writing