I can feel at home
Weeping at any place
All through the
Albino cathedrals-
Fallen like snow
Beneath the monoliths
And keeps of Paladins
Who have all bled through
The paper of sweethearts-
And soft animals alongside
The road-
Trying to remember if they
Were the metamorphosis
Of pilgrims
On their way to a sea of
Ferris Wheels
Pinwheeling all of a sudden
Through the senses of the
Sleepwalking hills.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem