a psalm set in the green of a field.
rolling sounds of vibrant colour.
a walking tidal of bloody waves rushing
in and out
in and loud
over the dry sand, with all the veiny remains of the
leaders and heroes of bravery, such brave souls
courageous, whereas their thoughts and forces
seemlessly flow over such clouds
as are puffy and free
like cattle in the field with excellent grazing pasture
they drift and gather, and gather and leave
those thoughts are free
those thoughts set men ablaze
with the fire of honour and grace
and in an endless procurement of ideas
and colours of light
freedom isn't sought, but it
is the seeker in the night
white washing the broken shells on the shoreline
as i stand facing north,
naked as a snake in the winter
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem