The mountains vomited the sun
Like a bouncing baby spilt from the uterus
The sun went on
Shining and at noons day
Began to grow gray by the clouds
And went on at sun down
To shine no more of the white clouds
And the the blue sky
But its sheen shone yellow, brown and black
The clouds stretched by the wind
Up in the sky
Near the abode of the maker
Of all things.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A beautiful portrait my friend!