There was a sandstorm:
But we didn't belong in her garden of
Mirages,
While the students were blowing
Glass to make fun of windmills
While it seemed a silent fit:
But it was beautiful,
Especially for the tourists-
And she kept her palms up, even while
She was sleeping,
And her houses were beautiful,
But needed work:
Oh, silent dog with one eye:
How you limp, like a wounded rainbow
Across the movie theatres of the
Graveyards,
And it almost seems impossible that
We don't have to arrive here
Anymore:
We just have to look up, and the airplanes
Are already gone,
Like breakfast eaten by the over eager gods
On Christmas day in the sunlight of
A child's eyes- full of the blinded innocence,
While everyone else steals all that they can see.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem