light slants in through the trees
from our nearest star
the solitary fish just hanging on
he's treading water
singing
what is life
that is so fleeting
leaves no trace
to the kitchen-clock
who hands folded 'cross his chalk-white face
in battery-talk
explains it all
though unconvincingly
from high-up on the wall
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Life is fleeting and leaving no trace. good write. I invite you to read my poems and comment.