LIKE A BOAT IN THE FINE WIND


you and I
you and the moon
you and the wind
you
and the stars
perhaps
in front of all the stench
of corpses
rotting
in their confined soil
the others, like myself
or who burn
in their hopeless hope
(without pain, yes of course)

yes like a boat in the fine wind


作者
约恩·福瑟

译者
May-Brit Akerholt

报错/编辑
  1. 初次上传:传灯
添加诗作
其他版本
添加译本

PoemWiki 评分

暂无评分
轻点评分 ⇨
  1. 暂无评论    写评论