If there are horses leaping through the
Timber of a forgotten house, where are they
If the forest runs like yoke,
As the systems come, bound tightly as
Gifts of magnets
To the wanton sea: she throws them in again,
As a sacrifice to the beautiful elements-
And she goes home again,
Circumnavigating the cul-de-sacs, and something
Whispers overhead but not a long ways off:
She looks up and the weather seems to change
As the fireworks take off:
It is her boy, her only child, playing hooky on a roof:
There he is in a summer about to turn auburn,
And he doesn’t know any math-
And he doesn’t know the constellations, but
The insouciant alligator still watches him
As his mother is coming home.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem