Infested got
my garden's flowers
with autumn
unconditionally submitting
to the heat
of everyday humdrum
and some verses of chlorophyll
that dared to knock
on the stalks' gates,
found them padlocked
down to their heart
with aridity.
'Temporary loss of poetry, '
the garden's doctor diagnosed.
'Great doses of Sun, '
he went on to prescribe
'from dawn to night
and intensive
verse physiotherapy
night and day.'
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I looked at this because the title is great - and I`m glad I did - a good poem, good work.