Silver crowns
Turn onyx
In black
Hell waters.
Croquet goes
Dry in
Water winds,
Blue in the whites.
Hands waver
And brush
The music,
Blemishes.
Mouths turn
Into circles.
Saying words
Of first farewells.
Fingers enclose
In packages
Addressed to
Darling. Betty Black.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem