In A Soft Winnowing
E
Emmanuel George Cefai
0
Altın Yaprak
In a soft winnowing
The wind of dusk
Neighed round
The ancient houses
Flustered red in face
Those dreamy piles of
Stones of ancientness
Surfeited in the winds' caress.
And the sun fading
Swallowed in the aegis of the seas
And liquid sovereignties
Prose at the level, at that time
Prose became verse
And verse to prose transformed
Bu şiiri puanla
Henüz puan verilmemiş