In the afternoon
after the crowd has roared to
the rhythm of the winners
whose struggle and sweat has met the
cold air,
and after the cheers
have found their way
back to silence,
a small throated
voice asks
By how much
did they win?
Today one point
Tomorrow
Perhaps
Much less
Donald Schuster - ES Donald
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem