I could get a plastic board and surf downstream
I could leave Hornchurch passing sleepy
Gardens and overgrown hedges. I can stand
On this bridge and skim a crushed can into
The steaming distance. Or dropp two spent matches
Betting on which will pass the moss covered
Trolley first. I am fine here, at peace, on this
Bridge that overlooks this tiny forgotten stream.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem