later version 10/19/03
Here on Lookout point
demarcation of three states,
always this spare, slim elbow of land
gloved in a demonstration
of green convergence
parades a garden of burgeoning
sweet vine and ravaging bloom.
Divides the aching heart,
Praises the grave and the grave's sky
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem