In a breath of wind I stand,
Frog-slimy ground, and shard rocks beneath.
It is not easy to look, much less to walk
Onwards, downwards.
My only wings are black as ashes,
And they pull me down, smothering the feeble
Chick-heart in it's chest.
In a breath of a fear I stand,
And I cannot move for I will fall,
To the ground, to mountain roots,
Into the vulture's beak.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem