To the lost and found
Dear Sir, or Madam,
I look for Ezra Pond.
He was a matchmaker,
In Paris of his days.
Matched writers, publishers,
The artists with buyers.
I need him, search for him,
Let me know if find him.
I fear Washington,
May arrest and kill him.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem