Baseball diamonds of Siamese twins—
And now here I am, separated from
My love,
Both of us living on other sides of the runway—
My words not clever enough to find her—
Just the echoes of a jubilee of a smoked out
Apiary—
And when the waves come in the darkest night
Or in the middle of the day,
I cannot see them, but think about them
As I travel home all by my lonesome—
Just as my tombstone thinks of me.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem