In amongst the thick and thorned bushes it lays,
Biting bitter berries; whiling the day away.
It dribbles juices in bleeding streams from its lips
As it masticates the drenched saliva-clad fibres
Around a gaping trap.
It gags a slow reproach as the bitter berries cramp in its stomach.
A Lurch, but it won’t give up the poison.
Instead it rolls on to its face and dies,
Packing its limbs neatly into the earth.
Poor child, it should have known better.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Ha, another enigmatic story. Read mine - On The Horns of The Moon - Adeline