You lay him down 'tell none why;
and heat, surges and pure is the light,
right back through you.
Hold it back and you do..cry too the night,
then more;
will then think and reasons is no lesson.
Do you sound out loud too the cliff,
and wind;
on my wings tells the feathers and
you tell the sky,
while you swoop and you preen,
on that limb,
while your face is turned up,
and his toes are turned down,
cloud lest, and so why do you cry.
e.d.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem