A seafront full of salt; a lost girl
And a wind that puts space between us.
The rain has stolen my voice
My face numb with a thousand needles.
A big dirty of a tide; a flood wind
Sly as a gull`s dive over black water.
And if I shouted King Lear, drunk and eternal
At the stars full of cold distance
Then that was the back of my eye,
A burnt picture soaked, the real camera.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem