Rampant days are coming.
Boisterously restless and dreaming of distant shores.
Again the night seems languid and facetiousness dumbfounding.
Again the country is swelling like a balloon.
Again the girls are outnumbered; the days are longer.
We smoke cigarettes in anticipation of our forthcoming summer.
We let lose winter’s bulkiness and stride straight-backed and hover through our cities and towns.
For now, words are words and nothing more, so we pace diligently through the night.
Awed by the raining, knocking franticly on doors.
Rampant days are coming.
Tumultuously, wildly restless and dreaming of distant shores.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Like this - a lot. Great energy and anticipation. -chuck