Homeless I tread
with a song in my head
as light as a hummingbird's feather.
(It is 'Lady in Red' by Chris de Burgh,
to save you the trouble
of trying to discover. Google, if you haven't heard.)
And, you know, I do not mind
the weight I leave behind,
the ever falling forward.
The world in all its noise
is the mower that annoys
and hovers over the downward spiral.
But mine is the lift
of the hummingbird's gift
sipping the nectar in the middle.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem