Overeager, through the per severances of
Rainy theft- looking out
Through the windows of the first house
My parents ever had-
Long winded, distended to the elements-
As the night whispers of conquistadors
Basking
Underneath the Easter Baskets we dressed up
For:
Now I own my own house in a little world
That doesn’t belong to me-
Eager to seize that telltale raiment that
Lays scattered in the yard
Like a marriage for the red ants- who see their
Cousins in the holly berries,
Or look up to the sky and say that is the thing:
Will they ever reach the sky at the end of
The yard, they wonder- they plunder through the
Grass, and bare their heads to a queen
Who kisses them like honeysuckle
Far underneath a world that any man can see.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem