LOVE FOR THREE ORANGES
frozen lake
the moon going: 'O'
the clock
preaching to me
in a voice like Time
I escape to memory
the clock now
nothing but a distant dot
moon
looking in the big window
smiling upon the humans
the shouts
of midnight skaters
the hiss of ice
an empty room
an empty night
ticking of a clock
whistles Prokofiev
the dog barks in time
he winds up the clock
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem