Like a falcon
you dive with a notched nose.
There was an element
of absurd in your style.
Crushed under snow,
I would search my lost
shoes. The spirit to move on
wakes me up again.
The pursuit of perfect
truth in jungle of fake
excuses. I was wary
of animal grins.
Thugs, they have become
the stewards. Life was mystery.
Death sorts out the secret
of undying passions.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Giant flightless birds fight for a cool drink at the watering hole sometimes sullied with the excrement of mammals. The perfection of a feather in a lady's dainty hat gives her air (even if she's fat) .