When school disperses the many brilliant promises
Recorded in her playgrounds that
Remain unknown- even in the middle of the day,
When truants pass across the canal,
And all the sky is green and as curious as an
Arsonist learning a wooden violin-
Where will we go, but across the shoulders of the
Playgrounds,
Forgetting even our peers with angelic bone structures:
And leaping as if waves ourselves, burning down
The cul-de-sacs, telling lies to unicorns that have
Wound up as housewives:
That even they will soon be leaving us, as our little
World evaporates- as if all the parts of our bodies
Surcease, lying in the shallows
Reduced to the brilliant minerals of wedding rings
And retreating butterflies..
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem