Amid the sea spray the words become frayed
like clouds
in pale April
and the wind / draws out
music from the houses
pieces of shattering glass
here / you can touch me
(you say)
in the no-man's-land
in the brushwood / between the years
Translation by Brigitte Scott
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
An insightful piece of poetry, well articulated and nicely penned. Thanks for sharing Sepp.