Paul Archer - photo Paul Archer - poet, translator

Poems

Lyrics
Translations
Contact
Home

November in Okayama

November in Okayama,
It rains 'zaza', like in London.
Under your purple umbrella
Your palm on my back, my hand on
Your hip-bone as if it's touching
A puppy shivering with cold.

So pure a love poured into such
Impure a vessel, I daren't hold
It within me, let alone drink,
So uncensored was its source.
And when a carhorn hoots, I think
It's the red demon of remorse.

 Poems
© Paul Archer - All Rights Reserved