Who needs their shoes repaired
Sleep over gently
Salamanders at your door step
September morning used to bring me down
Familial groupings smart from their Church
small does of leitmotifs in perseverance
Trotsky is on sale again
the permanence is in the movement
sent to the flower stall
Well wishing day
least the rain
sops your soul
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem