Not those milkshake doves-
A white shadow
Perhaps
Drifting down the heaven
No sooner than it touches the ground
Becomes formless
All the bathing-birds coming out of crimson waters
Of hemoglobin
Yet, All the Scriptures too.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Very nicely done. I read this poem more & more. So, thanks a lot to you.