When the moon froze to my hands
I carried the rain on my shoulders
as the heavy frescos of the sky
and the wind crawling on the pane
composinf the Beethoven's melancholy
in the endless strings of pavement
and the city swung more and more
trees like the fragile pylon
where in oblique eyes of the streets
lonely dog howled longingly through the night
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem