The Sky is now a moldy plum,
Pear juice is dripping from the Sun.
The Earth's rotting, the reason wanes,
Tomorrow's only dust in Space.
Mostanában
Penészes szilva most az ég,
A Napból körtelé csorog.
A Föld rohad, kihalt az ész,
A Holnapunk csak ürhomok.
Tomorrow's only dust in Space.
ReplyDeleteΗ απλότητα της Ποίησης. Υπέροχο.
Hello dear Edit, finally I visit your blog again..
ReplyDeleteThis poem is so beautiful, no one writes like you.
My blogging is going very slow, but I am still there sometimes.
Take care, my friend.
Hugs, Ida