Some come to think she is ugly
and when they come
she is back
a swan that is she, made so gracefull
long of neck
and she does it the way she was born to do
it is when she talks
and they scream for her to stop
when they can't
and when they stop
the sky is full of clouds
and rainbows are for fairies whom think
that the pot
is just the sun made of amber
and your face was made just to smile.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem