lily butterflies, i will not forsake you
though some may think queer my adulation
perhaps they'd take solace my welcoming them
when once i would spit in their horrid faces
the butterflies abandon me for wavering
I would endure any insult to have them back in view
there is a pair now intertwining on their way
and even two small black birds
following each other up stream
my other half mingles with wisps of spring air
surprised to her a book I would dedicate
through all the distractions that injure our lives
somewhere secluded egrets fulfill their futures
as speed demons hurtle towards their next little messes
this Brooklyn boy intercedes straddling nature and machine
in favor of flowers that soften his dream
wild Han flowers between the dyke's ledge
how easy they flourish without cultivation
terrarium masterpiece from their only master
as boys going nowhere go faster and faster
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I like this. Gives me a great feeling as if I were outdoors surrounded by all those great items of nature. You would probably enjoy my poem BUTTERLY OF DEATH.