The earth is hopping, black.
convalescing from sun-shire.
corral recovering, and horses hump.
Something sparkling falls for,
another day in this day, trump.
Who shall have a morning in first day.
to take rumour in a new day cross.
stalement currupt morning.
An angel is comming.
Ladies devoid of deus ex machina.
Bug receives downpour,
along flash humping doubloons.
This must be fara flitted lights.
This must be the glory of christ.
Crawling floury crest cream.
This world is white blubing of feathers.
The bluishy shoes of fara is ours.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem