Down to the tender moments-
Currents returning to the ocean, traffic in a city
Winnowed into homes
Whose lights our doused: and in the yard,
The cats who somehow make love to the fish,
Like kidnappers with lips of pornography,
Or the lights over New Mexico
After all of the Navajos are inebriated
And hitchhiking along the devil’s highway
For a dollar-
And the daughters have turned to salt after looking
Back on all that they had to leave behind.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem