Fly
Fly
Sea gulls of wrath
Your cry
Is harsh today
Your throat
Is parched
And yet you fly
And yet you cry
As a cutting knife
Against the azure
Sky
Uttered one word
After the other
Your sullen angry cry
And
In the sullen angry cry
I hear
The wise voice of the wise
Who
Mostly in cemeteries lie
Still and alone by day
Warning
To us, the uttered cry
Unheeded goes
The sullen angry cry of
The sullen angry sea-gull
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem