suddenly a rainbow had inked itself
across the camargue sky, seemingly
sucking colours from the flat greyness
cut by the ribbon of autoroute thrusting
past toulouse; you can see both ends
someone remarked delightedly and
indeed you could, two pots of gold linked
by an arching spectrum of bleeding bands,
emptied by the curse of fortune's fool
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem