Like ants
Drummers cluster around
Rotten beads of sugery beasts
Their drummsticks land on band
That eject balm of black sky
In hummery of rythymless chants
In nudity of down
And stillness of night
They wear their woes
And match like merchants
To bows for dungs
In silver bracelets
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem