He lilts upon a silken bed,
gossamer beauty in his web,
a small figure of black and red,
cliché yes, but it must be said
that I am amazed by the sight,
glints of fleet, yellowed sunlight,
the strands wave as if in flight,
briefest flash of purest white…
But he spun his web in my
bathroom, so…WHAM! !
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem