A rock falls from the sky,
the earth putz out its glove,
and catches it.
THE dark clouds are pregnent with tears,
so they can fill the rivers,
and oceans.
A egg breaks wide open, and in
it, a brand new child.
REPAIR,
REPAIR, the daffodels sing,
REPAIR,
repair, the children sing,
repair,
repair, for this is our only home.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem