The birth tiger opens its
Red mawe and it roars,
Its mouth wide with pain.
It releases the man
Who climbs down the well
On the navel rope
Eyes glazed with fear
He knows there’s no going back
On the well floor
King Cobra, hissing, waits
Eventually they’ll meet
Meanwhile, the white mouse of day
The black mouse of night,
Nibble the rope.
What to do?
A luscious strawberry glistens
On the well’s side
How delicious it tastes on the tongue!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem