dark glass, time darkened
murky shadows where
partition's dented,
inscribed by time,
etched by whirring beak, knocking
on the future
time is spoken by birdsong,
yes,
it is time to wake,
the beak and claws of time scratch
at my door, alarm clock
for my dead senses.
Sing, sing, sing
the melody queen has arrived
to stir your sleeping mind.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem