Let's go down together to feel the dislodging.
Listen to the wind as it swells
above the wheat:
sharp metal war.
A silver racket
rusts the living,
splits up each and every thing
that exists in the world.
The first drops begin to fall.
The fierce confederated storm
takes root for always
within the city walls.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem