Lions underneath the airplanes
And other toys-
The knights started out but got distracted,
Such as this:
And on, and on- and through the trees
A forest:
I loved you, it was plane,
But I couldn’t force you to do the same:
Up in the apertures
Of girls with golden hair-
I saw my muse, but she couldn’t care:
So my words are bitter
As if on a wild persimmon tree-
You could see me there
If I hadn’t fallen into a wishing well
And sprained my knee:
Now I love you- now I don’t-
I could forget you, but I won’t-
As the daylight proceeds beneath the cathedral
Of airplanes, the spectators looking down:
But they will forget your intangible
Amusements before
They touch down.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem