i talked to the wind
and the wind died down
i talked to the trees
and they all left town
i talked to the stars
and they faded away
i talked to the night
and it turned to day
i talked to a flower
on a windowsill
i called it bob
and it said, i'm bill
i talked to a bottle
lying in the gutter
it looked up at me
and its eyelids fluttered
i talked to the drops
that were still left in it
they looked up at me
and said, hold on a minute
i talked to the glass
when the bottle broke
when it fell on the sidewalk
through a cloud of smoke
i talked to the smoke
as it drifted away
and then -
i had nothing more to say
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem