A hundred times a thousand croaks
ribbit ribbit back to you
it's the same here
in the wet bottoms of the barranca
i cherish their interrupted concert
the moment my silhouette defines
against the moon or the bright light
of lampadaires
they stop to honor my presence
with silent silence
and after a few minutes of quiet
one croak then two then four and eight
a geometric progression
followed by another invisible one hundred
thousand serenading croaks
splintering the hush into cacophony
~~~
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem