Virgil watched them
Crossing the river away from him
The fathers without their children
Only a little while
Was he smiling
-Ly
-Ily
At Death the Golden Age
Falling backwards
In the Chinese restaurant
The tiniest fireman
I could see that he was smiling
Plenty of children in Arcady without fathers
Our friends long before sundown
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
a sense of history, both loss and gain- good shifts in such a little poem, I especially like 'the tiniest fireman'