Sun's balloon, tipping too far
Of Day's gold cheer split.
Heavy all at once, the world;
And things upon it.
Afternoons I'd hear of boys
By its mooring lines
Hang adrift; so high they'd leap.
When laughter inclines
To that scampish decibel
That you instant guess
Many a gate, fence and wall's
Counter-threats mean less.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem