I will try and hide the
mushroom cloud and restore
the skinless bodies, I will
un-char the charred, reassemble
the dead children, I will then
un-vitrify the rocks and the sand and
rebuild cities and cafes and hope;
undoing your atrocities is high
on my list, just
leave me enough milk
for morning
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem