Soft and spoiled
apples cling to shifting limb,
foregoing taut skin
for molten brown,
when night winds
carry them down
to invest
with teardropp seeds
the unsuspecting
grassy ground.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Ruined oh Ruined The apple just turn brown No more happy hanging by the branch Spoiled oh spoiled destiny bring you down the ground The tear shape seeds launched Ruined or spoiled Stayed now to grow as little plant... So dont be sad if you fall One day you will taste a great new day pal :) i write this as i inspired to continue your poem Steven it was nice write, like it the natural way you write! _Unwritten Soul