someone must have known about
connecting lines drawn
creating space
about the weave in tapestries
with multi-coloured threads
backdrop to this place
an asparagus field in winter
where pheasants, crows and pigeons
are wont to g'zinter
where the undramas of the day
play-out in the furrows of your mind
for the turning of things over
and pecking at what you find
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem