The moon cracks open
and sparrows fall from it's heart
the world fills with song
but one perfect bird
will die tonight
under the wheels of someone
tuning their radio
pray that it isnt you.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
seeing things differently is a natural tendency of a poet; registering your concern is remarkable...at this age if you can say this you would make a Wordsworth....get going