Secret fountain listening to the hummingbirds
In the garden:
Build at right angles to her trinkets-
Thick with the amoebas of tadpoles
Bathing in green membranes
The traffic could never think of intruding,
So when the orange fell it stayed there
And rotted,
As the waves danced over her shoulders,
And she lay in peace,
As the roses whispered, sucreasing from
Her grasp,
And the mollusks opened up to her
Like blind men imagining a diamond.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem