In patches of broken bones it pick
This carcasses spread on open ground it seek
In due time it wouldn’t allow dust to lick
With eyes for it pray elevated higher to it peak
With it open eyes lying horizontally
Longing on decaying rot to increase its tally
It laws stretching to cloak intra
On ore due touch intricate it goes further
It shambles on the air
On the campiest ways it tear
It verge to verify every hue
Vile it goes vilifying it due
It voracious beak vying to get
To all immortal it wouldn’t regret
Swaying to swarm routine creature
This uncurling vulture
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem