Wrath Poem by Mark Boog
Wrath
Wrath, blue fire with red tongues,
licks these days clean. The stockade
in the winter morning, groans and will fall.
Translation: 2006, Willem Groenewegen
Tuesday, September 19, 2017
Topic(s) of this poem: fire,red,winter
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8/1/2026 4:49:09 AM # rel_20260727T173023Z_37e450e
