you focus
on the paper and put the
rain there
added the trees and grass
and the
wet wide plains
you rust the river of course
and some buffaloes
and the whip and the
leader of the pack
of wolves
and the lost sheep and the
shepherd
you miss the experience
instead: outside, how water feels with your
palms and feet and naked body
the slime on the rocks
the salt in there to your tongue
the snail to your nipples
the moss to your lips....
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem