Lose yourself, child
of dough and butter,
red-peel of an
apple, return more and
more flour,
flesh, your
eyes, your heart
melting
formless,
return here
to your mother's
mouth.
Translation: 2006, Elisa Biagini
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A nice poetic imagination, Elisa. You may like to read my poem, Love and Lust. Thanks