A little slice of Humboldt heaven
Where I took refuge from sudden showers,
Pushing my borrowed blue bicycle
Into the dark high-raftered dairy barn.
A soft sheen
Played on the tin roof
As I stroked the moon-eyed pokeys
In the close pens-
Then the sun broke through
And all the wet pebbles shone
Back to the road
Alike the first day of the world,
And I was on my way.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem