Silently at an agape clearing far yonder
at hot rocky grounds in deep nowhere
so very hot to the worn-out sandals
and a burning pricking throat
soared of thirst and passage of sobs
to quench on waterfall's image on empty bottle.
In a cavern, web ceiling spread
in portions over stalactite and weathering shells
yet upon are dieing eyes of the webmasters
weak, so weak, passing over flies carcases.
Dust-overwhelmed bamboo stool stood there
near a leaked pen, on a squared paper,
and an unfinished image of a girl
outside a cavern,
on shores of a sort of a sea
behind a mangrove
of grapes and tortoises.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem