There’s an inaccessibility
in the steel-blue sky,
a chilly winter cold that comes without modesty
and I see doves turning in their gambolling flight
in a swarm gathering around me
and they seem hungry
when I spread crumbs of bread from a paper-bag
but in this winter all heat is missing
while the wind is pulling on tree branches,
making a dust cloud of leaves and sand,
blowing things higher than the roofs of the houses,
causing the blue to disappear.
Still I can stare in wonder,
where doves gather dog tame around me.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem