Something is truly being
Beautiful,
Seen from the cliffs with the
Lights out,
All the virgins doused in
The tallow of whales or
Song birds;
And I strike out like a
Leap of flint, Kelly;
I am creating the bonfire
From the trucks of your
Boys’ pirouette;
I am just the yellow magnesium
To fill your horn;
But whatever else I was meant to
Say I have surely forgotten,
Even though I am sure it
Was beautiful, as it was
Meant for you.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem