Crow
its black feathers
shining with light
tumbles over
its broken wing
rights itself
again
as if it were Laurence Oliver
being Richard the Third
“Now, is the winter
of our discontent..! ”
Crying for its kingdom
of the skies
the failing light
hiding it in night
its curses
still visible
in the darkness.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Now this will drive me nuts...what is that saying...something about a man who would rather curse the darkness rather than light a candle....Oh, dear, a mind is a terrible thing to waste...but the curses I utter will also be visable in the darkness... Thanks, sweet one, for the poem...Love Ya!