I mai, den skjønne måned mai da alle fugler synger...---In May, the beautiful month of May when all birds sing ...---En mayo, el hermoso mes de mayo cuando todos los pájaros cantan ...--- Im Mai, dem schönen Monat Mai, in dem alle Vögel singen ...---En mai, le beau mois de mai où tous les oiseaux chantent ...

VERB

I'm going to wrinkle this word,
   twist it,
   yes,
   it's too smooth,
   as if the tongue
   of a big dog or a big river's water
   had washed it
   for years and years.

I want to see
   roughness in the word,
   ironlike salt,
   earth's
   toothless strength,
   the blood
   of those who spoke out and those who didn't.

I want to see thirst
   deep in its syllables.
I want to touch fire
   in the sound.
I want to feel
   the darkness of a scream.
I want rough words
   like virginal stones.