Green gloves rustle
On the avenue's branches
The evening carries us under its arm
By a path which leaves no trace
The rain falls on its knees
Before the fugitive windows
The yards come out of their gates
And stand looking after us
Trans. by Anne Pennington
Anonymous submission.
Far Within Us #4
Vasko Popa
(1)
Poem topics: green, rain, evening, stand, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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