In a shadow of a maple
Feet to the east
Eyes to the sky
Jungle hated him
He was sleeping and some hands
From the leafs
were touching him
They were playing
Behind his face
He had a monster
The maple was praying
Then its hands dropped
When the monkeys were singing
At the heart of night
The maple smelled like a dead body
Here is the last east
Here is nearest earth
To the sky...
When jungle is sick
Fog brings it dark grey
With smell of a dead body
Today that man without shoulders
In a shadow of a maple
Is burried; Now everything he has got
Is to the west...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem