Downed by the desires of crimes
That they know will never fit:
The airplanes and their wives sleeping low,
Gliding and making love
Just as quiet as children waiting for sugar plums
As the world reciprocates with itself,
Seeming to come out into the park
Where all of the trees are opening, seeming for
Awhile to winnow the greenery of their
Souls-
And my true love is there, and she is down:
Axioms of light in a carnival that can be blown by
The wind,
A flag of single minded patriotism in her hair,
A cul-de-sac that can bare children
Skipping school, fluctuating amidst the allocations of
Play-
For awhile make believe, as the airplanes that they
Know whisper through the trees,
Before touching down, their heartbeats drumming softly
Through the pines.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem