Lost Value
The sun coughed
a blob of mucus flew out
landed on a mountain top
set it afire,
and for miles, total devastation.
Rain cooled the mountain,
shrouded it in steam,
when the mist cleared
a sparkling diamond of a mountain.
Overnight the price of gems fell
valueless now.
No good for anything other
than as underlay for motorways
and garden paths.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem