It feels good to be in the weather
As long as there are so many houses
To return home to—
The truth in the daylight in the sky—
Unobtainable layers of it
Above the frothing surf
Filled with starfish and jellyfish
And sea horses—
The tourists can only stand there—
As the airplanes advertise with
Their banners—
This is the joy in the world—
As the cadaver, still burning,
Leaps over the museums
Not know anyone's name.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem