with diagonal stripes across her breasts, brownish in the slab that stands straight on the flat pancake, directly,
documentarian, factoid, with storey upon storey with breasts, blouses, with stacks of garments, filled
or empty, sleeves stir in the wind, the wind stirs the garments slowly over the floor, pushes
them up against the wall, the wind which blows straight through the wall, she shouldn't tell
a happy story, but a story about happiness, when she has left she will tell a story
about happiness
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem