The fawn lies still, in the grass on the hill
Awaiting life, or the life of another
A jackal, an ant or the milk of a mother
So savage, so serene, to lie perfectly still and to not be seen
Ah...but the ant had its way, just a bite would display
This fawn that jumped before supper
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem