โ POEM ๐๐ Jayant Parmar
I can clearly count his ribs.
Sweeping the streets,
His spine has worn out,
his dreams โฆ.
๐๐ฉ๐ฆ แชIแGO แชEแญIแOแ
An Online Literary Journal of Translations
I can clearly count his ribs.
Sweeping the streets,
His spine has worn out,
his dreams โฆ.